The Other Side of Forever
by Flagg1991
Summary: In one universe, Lincoln Loud lives with ten sisters, and in another, Linka Loud with ten brothers. They share a common problem, and now their worlds - and hearts - are about to collide. Cover by Raganoxer
1. Two Shades of Misery

Lincoln Loud had never been to hell - then he started puberty, and he became a regular visitor: He and the demon manning the front gate were on a first name basis; he could find his way without looking at the directory n the lobby; and in two more trips, he'd get the next one free. He knew what to expect thanks to Royal County's first rate educational standards _(strange feelings, hair in weird places, lowering of the voice)_ but that's like saying you know what to expect from war from watching a bunch of John Wayne movies in the comfort of your own living room. The hair he could deal with, suddenly needing to apply deodorant too (though sometimes he forgot and started to smell a little ripe), and the voice thing...even that, despite his sisters' making fun of him when it broke. He could not, however, deal with being horny 24/7.

Before beginning his descent into the maelstrom, Lincoln noticed girls - their soft features, their shiny, silk-like hair, their big, shimmering eyes - and he even liked some of them, like Cristina. Ooooh, he wanted to kiss her so bad it drove him nuts. You know what he also noticed? Cool stuff on TV: He's see it, want it, then move on with his life, just like he did with girls. _After_ the advent of puberty, however, he found himself _consumed_ by girls...and his desire to touch them, taste them, _have sex with them._ Sitting in class, he'd get so worked up by the girls around him he'd pop a raging erection and from there, forget it - his train of thought would be derailed until he could, ahem, take care of business.

In the boys' room.

Alone.

Girls, and the things he wanted to do with them, plagued his every other waking thought, and there were times when he'd indulge those fantasies: He'd be playing video games, think of Ronnie Anne, and allow his mind to wander. By the time he came back to himself, he was flush with fever and shaking. God, and being around them - seeing them, hearing them, smelling their sweet scent - was enough to drive him up the wall.

It was a constant ache in his stomach and in his loins, and no matter how much he masturbated, the eye-rolling, knee-knocking pressure just wouldn't go away. It was like being burned in a raging fire but never killed; it was like being mind-controlled by a malignant outside force; it was like being cursed. It wouldn't last forever, he was told, but, God, each day was an eternity, a burning desert, and, brother, all the oasises were closed for maintenance. He'd do _anything_ for relief, anything to silence his raging hormones, anything to cool down and find a moment's peace.

Well...almost anything. The way he saw it, only one thing would quench the fire in his pants, and it was a thing that you couldn't find in any corner marker (though if you had the money and went to the right neighborhood, you could find it on the corner out front). That's to say: Sinking himself slowly into a warm, pretty, fragrant, blushing, lip-biting girl. He'd do _almost_ anything to blah blah blah lip-biting girl. Scale a mountain? Yep. Swim across the sea? You know it. Walk twenty miles in a soaking rain? Totes. Knock her down and take it from her by force? Uh...no. Convince your mentally challenged older sister that it was a Lincy-Leni bonding thing and don't tell anyone? Jesus, you're sick. He was a perpetual ball of teenage lust, but even he had limits, and they stopped at rape and incest.

Which left him in the same pitiful spot as a million other boys (and men) who felt the need to breed: Dating. Kind of sad when you get down to it. When you're hungry, do you have to go out, find a cow, charm it into going on a date with you, tell it jokes, call it pretty, then rinse and repeat five or six times before you can carve it up and eat it? No. But when you're horny, well...hope you like moving mountains, because you can't just go grab a package of girlfriend off the shelf at your local Meijer's like hamburger meat. He was so sprung he couldn't think straight, and when he tried to ask a pretty girl out, he got nervous because _I hope she really likes me, God I'm so fucking horny FUCK HER FUCK HER, FOR GOD'S SAKE PUT YOUR DICK INSIDE OF HER!_

It reminded him of this movie he saw once. _It._ About a monster who showed up to people as a clown or something. Kind of dumb. Anyway, adults couldn't see it but kids could. Well, these kids fought him and grew up and then came back to fight him again when he returned, and _they_ could see him. Cut to one of the dudes in a library asking this lady at the front desk something while this asshole clown stood off to the side yelling and screaming and dancing around like a jackass. The guy raised his voice as he was talking to the woman to be heard over the clown, but she couldn't see the clown, and dude wound up looking crazy. That's how he felt: He's trying to talk to a girl and there's this clown right behind him, screaming in his ear like a drill sergeant. _Smile! Relax your posture! Do whatever it takes to get in her pants, Private Loud!_

Now, from all that, you might think he was some kind of player who just wanted one thing. That wasn't the case, though. Yes, he wanted sex, but he also wanted kissing and cuddling and hand holding, stuff Poppa Wheelie and the other guys he hung out with would call gay, even though they probably wanted it too. In other words: He wasn't looking to get it from a girl and then dump her, he wanted an actual relationship.

That included sex.

Ugh.

Anyway, that's where he was on a sweltering summer day when something happened that changed his entire life, something that he hoped would never would but always feared would.

One of his sisters walked in on him jacking off.

It was mid-afternoon and he'd been feeling the call of nature since breakfast, which really irritated him considering he whacked it in the shower that morning. How much nut can I make? He planned to ignore it and go hang out with Clyde at the park (there were girls there, in skimpy clothes) but Clyde's dads, apparently, had a whole day of flea marketing planned, so that was a bust. He considered hitting Rusty up, but Rusty was annoying, always playing that dumb Pokemon Go crap. _I gotta get to the Pokestop, bro, there's a Flaming Charizard there!_ Ugh. There was Poppa, but Poppa liked roasting people too much. Lincoln didn't really mind it until it was _his_ turn, and Poppa just did not stop - he'd go on for hours. _You're a joke, Loud, you have white hair. You're not normal. Everyone thinks you're a weirdo. You're not accepted by your peers, Loud, we all make fun of you behind your back._

Sigh.

That left him with no one. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he hung his head and pressed his fingertips to his temples. Guess it's just me, Lincoln, and the floorboards.

Like an elder abomination waking from dark slumber, his dick stirred. _You're forgetting about me, Linc-O._

No, I'm not; how could I forget about _you?_ You won't leave me alone. You're worse than a Jehovah's Witness.

 _Knock, knock. Do you have a moment to hear the good news ABOUT SEX? Remember that Nikki girl, Linc? She was pretty tall...legs went on for daaaaays. Imagine how smooth they'd be if you ran your hands slowly up and down them...imagine the way she'd throw her head back and purr like a kitten…"That feels so good, Lincoln. Higher. Higher." And the higher you go, the hotter, until you're masturbating_ her.

God, please, stop.

 _No God here, Lincy, just you and Nikki, laying back on the bed, her legs parted for you. She's really warm and wet, isn't she? And look at her blush! You're really turning her on...making her shake...dude, look, she's cumming!_

Great. Now I'm so hard girls need a GameShark just to finish me.

Nikki raised her hands over her head in an X, her small but pert breasts lifting. _Finish in_ me.

Fine, alright, happy? Look, I'm kicking my shoes off and undoing my belt.

 _I'll be happy when you're inside me...thrusting…_

Shaking his head, Lincoln stood, slipped his pants down, and let them drop to his feet, then stepped out of them. His erection pushed out the front of his underwear like a missile in a silo, ready to fly and deliver its payload~

I hate you, he thought as he laid back on the bed and yanked his briefs down. Sometimes I wish I was girl, I bet their junk doesn't do this - hell, they're notorious for being cold fish, and I bet it's true. If it wasn't, teen pregnancy would be 100 percent and getting one to go out with you would start and end with _Hi, I'm -_

 _I don't care, fuck me._

If he was a girl, he'd be able to make it five glorious minutes without gritting his teeth and pressing his knees together because _oh, man, that chick's so hot._ Heh. Wish in one hand and poop in the other, kid; see which one fills up first. Ya might as well pray!

Sighing, he wrapped his fingers around his pulsing shaft and started shaking hands with Ben Franklin, as the kids say. Ever see those rods they have at nuclear plants? The ones that get so hot they glow orange and have to go into a huge pool of water lest the whole place goes Chernobyl? That's what his dick looked _and_ felt like - red and blistering. I'm gonna go to put this in a girl one day (if one ever lowers her standards enough to open her legs for me) and it's going to kill her.

I'm going to still finish, though; why let it go to waste?

Joking.

I think.

He called up a vision of Nikki from the city lying back on his bed, entirely naked except for a fuck me smile and a silver chain around her throat. He didn't know why, but he thought that was hot. He imagined prodding her hot center, gripping the sheets, and sliding in. He didn't know what a girl's pussy felt like, but all the dirty fan fiction he read online said it was basically like a pit of bubbling tar, but in a good way. Oh, and tight, like a vise.

Stroking faster, his hand gliding over his slickening dick, he started to lose himself to Dream Nikki - they licked each other's tongues as he thrusted again and again and -

A voice spoke, and his heart came to a complete halt in his chest. "You should really lock your door before doing that."

Crying out, he blasted to a sitting position and instinctively covered himself with his hands. Lisa stood in the doorway with one hand on the knob and the other resting at her side - her eyes were half lidded in that droopy _I'm a boring scientist and I've been awake for 96 hours straight working on a project_ way of hers. Her face showed no emotion - she could have been deeply disgusted or obscenely aroused, and Lincoln would be none the wiser.

"D-Don't you knock?" he yelled - not to be heard over a clown, but the crashing of his own heart. Saying he was so humiliated he could die would be an understatement.

"I did," Lisa said, "several times. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go start work on a memory eraser so I can forget what I just saw." With that, she pulled the door closed, and the click of the latch catching rang with grim finality, like the shutting of a coffin lid.

Oh, God, she saw me jerking it, she's probably going to tell everyone and I'll be the laughingstock of the house.

Again.

His face burned with shame and his erection, tall and proud like the mast of a ship just moments ago, started to deflate.

I really should have locked the door.

When will I learn?

Sighing, he pulled his underwear up and sat. Now things are going to be awkward.

Can I ever win?

* * *

Lisa Loud closed her bedroom door, crossed to her computer, and sat, the child sized swivel chair creaking under her weight. She crossed her legs, propped an elbow on the arm, and touched her index finger to her nose. If you saw her, you might think she was a little girl submerging in deep thought, and you'd be right, she _was._

Thought about Lincoln.

Not what she discovered him doing just now, per se, but about the disease to the masturbation's symptom.

Puberty.

Puberty is the process of physical changes through which a child's body matures into an adult body capable of sexual reproduction. It is initiated by hormonal signals from the brain to the gonads: the ovaries in females and the testes in males. In response to the signals, the gonads produce hormones that stimulate libido and the growth, function, and transformation of the brain, bones, muscle, blood, skin, hair, breasts, and sex organs. During puberty, a child's body is steeped in hormones, and their sex drives go through the roof. It's natural - like childbirth, death, and taxes - and serves a distinct biological purpose. Even so, Lisa was concerned about Lincoln and his reaction to it. Not in a logical way, mind you, but in a more...sentimental one.

You might not be able to tell from her cold, apathetic demeanor and perpetual irritability, but she was fond of her siblings, and when one is fond of a person, one does not like to see them suffer Lincoln, she had observed, was suffering: You could see it on his face and in his eyes. Every boy his age deals with constant hypersexualization - again, it's natural - but not every boy his age was her older brother, and not every one of them loved, supported, and encouraged her the way he did.

In other words, intellectually, she was a cynical forty-five-year-old scientist, but in her heart, she was a four-year-old girl who loved her big brother and didn't wish to see him in discomfort. She'd been meditating much on the matter recently, and had even begun, and abandoned, several different chemical agents meant to lessen or entirely relieve the effects of his overactive hormones. Blocking them was a simple matter, but there was the question of whether or not doing so would have adverse consequences. She was far from infallible, and the chances of her damaging his reproductive system were far too great. That, therefore, left her proverbially high and dry, back at square one, fresh out of ideas. Lincoln, it seemed, would simply have to endure, and so, too, would she.

Earlier, however, something occurred to her, and she'd been turning it over in her mind for hours now, investigating it from every angle and examining it close up, then far away, looking for weak points and finding none.

It was unconventional, and perhaps even a little 'off-the-wall' but her brother was, in essence, sick, and for what he had, there was but one cure...and she knew exactly how to obtain it.

Turning in her chair, she reached under her desk and pressed a button connected to a black box with a V-shaped antenna apparatus next to the computer: Electricity crackled between each antenna arm in wavering lines. Scooting close, she logged onto her computer and opened a window. For a moment, static filled the screen, then a little boy with short brown hair and glasses appeared, his expression one of placid indifference, save for the slight upward tilt of his lips.

"Hello, Lisa," Levi said.

* * *

Linka Loud was dead and this was hell.

At least that's how it felt sometimes. When her health teacher, Mr. Johnson, first touched on the subject of puberty, he talked about hair showing up in strange places and _certain_ body parts growing (he totally meant breasts). He neglected to mention that puberty also turns you into a quivering ball of sexual need. He was probably really embarrassed about bringing _that_ up, and she couldn't blame him, because that period, _she_ was embarrassed. Ew, why is my teacher talking about penises and stuff?

Kidding. I know why - it's a natural part of human biology. And so is this _horrible_ horniness. It was like an itch on your back...right smack-dab in the _one spot_ you couldn't reach. You could rub against a doorframe or something, but while that _kind_ of worked, it didn't fully get rid of it. To do that, you needed fingernails to move slowly up and down across your flesh - fingernails attached to a boy with no shirt and strong, rippling muscles like one of those hotties on the cover of a Harlequin paperback.

Ummm.

Before beginning her descent into the maelstrom, Linka noticed boys - their rugged features, firm voices, chiseled jaws - and she even liked some of them. Like Chris. She wanted to kiss him _so_ bad it made her toes curl. You know what she also noticed? Cute shoes and jewelry at the store: She'd see it, think _wow, I_ really _want that,_ then move on, just like she did with boys. _After_ starting puberty, though, she was the very definition of boy crazy, wanting to feel their arms around her, their hands in hers...and to feel their strong fingers caressing her chest and stomach. Umhm. She also kind of maybe sort of wanted to do _other_ things with them.

Just a little.

Okay. A lot.

A _whole_ lot.

Sitting in class, surrounded by boys of every shape, size, and description, she'd let herself get so worked up that the crotch of her panties dampened and her face blazed with her passion like a flashing neon sign. _LINKA'S TURNED ON, EVERYBODY! GET IT WHILE IT'S HOT._ When she was ovulating, like today, she could _smell_ them - a light, musky, masculine scent that sent ripples through her core and made her mouth water. Sometimes she'd be sitting next to a boy and wish he'd put his hand on her bare knee and look her in the eyes. _You're really beautiful, Linka. Wanna go out with me?_

Uh, yeah!

If she concentrated on what she imagined it would feel like - a warm hand on her leg, then brushing the hem of her skirt up, the fabric fluttering against her skin - she'd lose all train of thought and after that, it was over, folks, Linka Loud has left the building. Gym class was the worst - seeing so many sweaty boys in little shorts that clung tight to their backs _and_ fronts made her blush so hard she was surprised she hadn't popped a blood vessel yet. When it was over and the girls went to their locker rooms and the boys to theirs, she found herself fantasizing about their wet bodies glistening under the showers, steam thick in the air, a dozen naked, hard, scrumptious boys just waiting for a lone girl to stumble into their midst like a hapless lamb among wolves...a kitten among hungry dogs. _Meow~_

Thoughts like that were the reason she went straight to her room after school most days; alone, she indulged in lush fantasies of being pressed against slick tile walls and touched between her legs while hot water pounded against her back, and of laying naked before a group of boys and letting them explore her body. These always led to her playing with herself, her fingers rubbing her rose bud (street name clitoris) until she shook and panted through her teeth.

The thing was: Boys and the things she wanted to do with them were _constantly_ on her mind. She'd be reading a book and her mind would wander to Ron, and before you knew it, she was blushing and squeezing her legs together to the thought of him kissing her while he slid his fingers slowly into her core, tracing its rim, stroking her walls, pressing against her G-spot and making her buck her hips against his hand. She'd be watching a movie, surrounded by her brothers, and a guy with no shirt would strut across the screen, turning her on like flicking a switch and breaking her concentration. _Hope you didn't wanna finish the movie and find out who the killer is, Link. Here, have a buff stud with that sexy V pointing at his crotch._ No matter what she did or where she went, the specter of boys followed close behind, dogging her, harassing her, driving her insane. It was an endless ache in her chest and stomach, a pressure that built and built under her knees shook, a fever that burned so hot it reduced her brain to cinders.

She's do _anything_ to make it stop.

Well... _almost_ anything. See, it was like a sickness, and for this particular ailment, there was only one cure, one thing that would cool her fever and release the pressure in her depths - a boy slowly sinking himself into her, his quivering rod massaging her walls and scratching the itch _waaay_ in the back of her body, the one that she herself could not reach. She would do almost anything to get a boy in her bed. Climb a mountain? Yep. Swim across Lake Michigan? Sure. Tie one up like Annie Wilkes and force him? Ummm, no. Convince Loni that sex is how good big brothers spend time with their little sisters (but please, please, _please_ don't tell Mom and Dad)? Ew, gross. She might be burning alive in the hellish pit of puberty, but even she had her limits, and those were rape and incest. She loved her brothers, but, uh, not like _that_.

This left her in the same spot as every other girl her age (and older): Waiting for a boy to come along and claim her as his own. It's kind of sad when you think about it. If you're hungry, do you sit around waiting for a cow to come over, chat you up, smile, call you pretty, ask you out, then rinse and repeat five or six times before you can eat it? No, but when it comes to boys, hope you like sitting in your window with your chin in your hand like Rapunzel. Boys are virile, they can just go out and take what they want, but girls are timid and have to wait to be picked like summer corn. Or at least _she_ was timid. And when she _did_ approach a boy, she got really nervous and started blushing and stumbling over her words like a doofus. Oh, and the whole time her hormones _yelled_ at her like a gym teacher on his boy period. _TOUCH HIS CHEST! ASK HIM TO TOUCH YOU! OPEN YOUR LEGS AND LET HIM PUT HIS DICK IN YOU!_

Ugh. Leave me alone, please! I just want to live my life and be _freeee._ Is that really so much to ask? Five minutes of peace puh-leeze.

Nope. Her body was on her back worse than a tiger mom.

Now, from all that, you might think she was some kind of slut who just wanted one thing. That wasn't the case, though. Yes, she wanted sex, but she also wanted kissing and cuddling and hand holding. She wanted to be held and kissed and made to feel safe, loved, and protected. She didn't want a one night thing - even if she fantasized about those - she wanted a relationship.

A relationship that included sex.

Ugh.

Anyway, that's where she was on a sweltering summer afternoon when something happened, unbeknownst to her, that would change her entire life, something that she hoped would never happen but always feared would.

One of her brothers walked in on her touching herself.

It was mid-afternoon, and she'd been feeling the incessant pinch in her depths since morning, which annoyed her because she masturbated before she went to sleep the previous night, and that _usually_ carried her to three or four in the afternoon, longer if she wasn't bombarded with stimulating material. She planned to just ignore it and go to the park with Claudia to watch hot, shirtless guys play Frisbee (counterproductive, I know), but apparently her moms had a rugged hike planned, so there went _that_. She briefly considered hitting up Mama Stoppie, but Mama liked teasing, which was okay until it was Linka's turn. There was Rachel, but Rachel was really into Pokemon Go, which Linka thought was dumb. _I gotta get to the Poke gym and train my Flaming Charizard_. Ugh.

Sitting in the middle of her bed with her legs crossed, she folded her arms and sighed. I guess that leaves just us chickens.

Like the surface of a still pond shattered by the dropping of a stone, her pussy rippled. _What am I, chopped liver?_

Go away! You're worse a door-to-door salesman!

 _Knock, knock. Hello, ma'am, may I interest you IN A FLIPPING CRAZY ORGASM? Remember that Nick guy, Link? Wasn't he cute? He had those toned arms and you just_ know _if he fingered you, you'd see his muscles flexing and uhhhhhh, so hot._

Please, stop it!

 _You said please top it? Okay! Imagine him pinning your shoulders to the bed and kissing you like you owe him money, his tongue raping your mouth and his hands threading through your hair. Then...then...he puts it against you and pushes i y. Doesn't that get your motor racing? Huh? Doesn't' it, Linka? I bet you want to touch me now._

Linka squeezed her eyes closed and clenched her teeth. Yes, God, yes, she wanted to touch herself - the heat pouring from between her legs was maddening, and the feeling of her lips swelling with blood and her slit dampening made her squirm.

Fine! Okay! I'll touch you but you have to _promise_ you'll leave me alone afterwards. _Please._

 _Okay!_

Biting her bottom lip, her cheeks blazing a deep shade of pink, Linka uncrossed her legs, reached under her skirt, and hooked her fingers into her panties. She lifted her butt from the bed, slid them along her thighs, past her knees, and over her ankles, then tossed them aside. Laying back against the pillow, she took a deep, ragged breath, and slipped her hand between her legs, the heat of her own touch flowing into her and increasing her arousal. She licked her lips and rolled her body like a wave, her middle finger sinking between her sticky folds and brushing the moist, sensitive skin they protected, like the petals of a delicate flower.

A delicate flower that right now wanted to be drilled.

She closed her eyes and imagined Nick's naked chest flexing as he deflowered her, her fingers finding the bulb of her femininity and kneading gently at first, then faster, firmer. She propped her legs up in an M and made quick circles against herself, her face turning beet red and blood crashing against her temples like an angry storm surge. She was so caught up in her pleasure that she did not hear the door open, did not see Levi walk in, register what she was doing, and then turn and walk out again without missing a beat.

And when she finally came, her body jerking and her eyelids flying open, she wouldn't have noticed even the start of the Third World War.

* * *

In his lab, Levi shut the door, crossed to his computer, and sank into the child-sized swivel chair - it creaked under his weight. Crossing his legs, he propped his elbows on either armrest and steepled his fingers against his nose. If you saw him, you'd think he was a boy settling in for a plunge deep into thought. To be fair, he was.

Thoughts of Linka.

Not what he discovered her doing just now, per se, but about the disease to the masturbation's symptom.

Puberty.

Puberty is the process of physical changes through which a child's body matures into an adult body capable of sexual reproduction. It is initiated by hormonal signals from the brain to the gonads: the ovaries in females and the testes in males. In response to the signals, the gonads produce hormones that stimulate libido and the growth, function, and transformation of the brain, bones, muscle, blood, skin, hair, breasts, and sex organs. During puberty, a child's body is a simmering cauldron of sex hormones, which causes dramatic spikes in libido.

This was perfectly natural, of course, and every girl Linka's age contends with it. Every other girl, however, was not his sister, and had never tucked him into bed, kissed his forehead, or comforted him when he suffered a nightmare about the collapse of the space/time continuum. That is to say that despite his cold outward demeanor, he felt very tenderly toward Linka - in much the same manner as he felt for his mother - and when one sees their beloved sister suffering, one can't help but be bothered.

And from what he had observed recently, Linka was, indeed, suffering. Her hormones were raging, perhaps more strongly than is normal (though he couldn't say, as he'd never studied the menstrual cycle of a female before), and it was causing her a great deal of discomfort. Sexual arousal is likened to a fire for a reason - because it burns - and from what he'd been able to gather, Linka was a witch tied to a stake, the flames licking her body and the pain neigh on excruciating. He'd considered creating a serum or drug to alleviate the worst of the hormones, or even to block them entirely, but there was a more-than-acceptable risk that it would somehow harm her, which put him -

On his desk, the transdimensional satellite link crackled with electricity, shimmering like spider silk between the extended arms of a V-shaped antenna.

Someone was calling.

A moment later, a window appeared on the computer screen: A green checkmark and a red X. LISA #1.

Levi smiled to himself. Eight months ago, hw set out to disprove the multiverse but wound up confirming it instead. He couldn't say how many there were - he doubted the number was infinite - but so far he'd established contact with fifteen, and as far as he'd been able to gather, each person who existed in one also existed in some way, shape, or form in the others, including himself: In some he was male, in others female, and transgender in at least two. Lisa #1 was not the first version of himself he discovered, but she _was_ his favorite (certainly better than the wretched National Socialist one), and they regularly video conferenced, sharing scientific findings, research, and sometimes just talking. Her dimension was, he'd found, the mirror image of his own in every single way excepting the fact that males there were females here and vice versa: Whereas he was a boy with nine brothers and one sister, she was a girl with nine sisters and one brother.

Navigating the cursor across the screen, he clicked the green checkmark, and Lisa's face filled the screen. "Hello, Lisa," he said and leaned back in the chair, his hands gripping the arms. "While this is unexpected, I can't say that it's unwelcome."

Lisa nodded curtly, and Levi noticed a distinct lack of the friendly warmth she displayed when she called simply to chat, which told him she was wrestling with a problem and needed his help, advice, or for him to just listen to her, all of which he was glad to do. "I'm concerned about Lincoln," she said without preamble.

Ahhh. "As I am about Linka," he said. Leaning forward, he opened a drawer and took out a package of gummy bears, his one vice. He scooped a handful and tossed it into his mouth. "For probably," he drew as he did so, "the same reason."

"The ravages of puberty," Lisa said.

Levi chewed. "Especially the secretion of sexual hormones."

Across a mind-boggling chasm of time and space, Lisa took a quick, shallow breath, which is as close to a deep sigh as she could come. Levi's heart twinged in sympathy. "I know it's perfectly normal, -"

"But your affection toward him makes watching it difficult," Levi finished. "I feel the same in regards to Linka."

His universe and Lisa #1's were virtually identical, but they were not exactly, owing to gender politics, largely. Lisa and her sisters dearly loved their brother, but their relationship with him was not the same as his and his brother's relationship with Linka. Levi and his brothers were far more tender and gentle with Linka than Lisa and her sisters were with Lincoln - because Linka was a girl and Lincoln a boy. She and her sisters routinely teased and even physically assaulted Lincoln during family-wide scuffles, something that Levi and his brothers would do to Linka on only a cold day in hell. Even so, she and her sisters did care about him, and he knew that what she felt now was the same thing he felt.

"Yes," she said, "he seems to be in great discomfort and it's painful to watch. I'd given thought to creating -"

Levi nodded. "As have I."

In her universe, Lisa crossed her arms; when she did that, she meant business, and in a flash, he understood, in a roundabout way, what she was thinking.

And he didn't like it.

"No," he said.

Lisa raised one brow challengingly. "Oh?" she asked.

"No," Levi repeated. "You've formulated some bizarre plans - something I usually find endearing and even admirable - but this is too much."

"I don't see why," Lisa said, "Lincoln and Linka both need the same thing, and while they aren't exactly the same given social and familial evolution, they are as close in mind and body as two human beings could ever be."

Shaking his head, Levi plopped more gummy bears into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed, mulling over her proposition while he did. She was right in that Lincoln and Linka were as alike as their differing genders and life experiences would allow, and they were both in the midst of what Levi couldn't help thinking of as 'heat' but the thought of 'hooking' his sister up with a boy - any boy - deeply disturbed him.

For a moment Lisa watched him in silence, then, when he scooped another handful and shoved them in, she said, "I understand your feelings toward Linka. You and your brothers are protective of her. We are of Lincoln, but not to the same degree. You know, however, that Lincoln is a...a good boy, and would be, physically and emotionally speaking, the perfect partner for Linka, and Linka for him. I don't know if she realizes it, but all a girl has to do to obtain a sex partner is display interest. Boys, especially when they're hormonal, are not picky. She will likely find this out and possibly wind up sleeping with someone who isn't a particularly good person. There are also the risks of pregnancy and venereal disease. As you know, the difference in genetic make up between your universe and mind preclude the possibility of both. Her womb will not accept his seed and even if one was suffering from VD, the other would not contract it."

She was right, of course, but, even though he knew Linka needed a mate, as it were…

"You're being irrational," Lisa said, a blunt, accusing edge in her voice. "You know damned well she wants it and that she'll get it. I have the same concerns with Lincoln, that he'll sleep with and possibly impregnate someone like Ronnie Anne Santiago."

Across a vast gulf, Lisa and Levi shared a shudder. In both universe, Ronnie Anne/Ron was belligerent, rude, and treated their respective partner (Lincoln/Linka) poorly. Ron treated Linka less poorly than Ronnie Anne treated Lincoln, but he was also more of a hoodlum than his gender-swapped counterpart, and Levi could very clearly see him hitting Linka in a fit of rage. Lisa was correct in that Lincoln was a good boy, and while Levi was not entirely comfortable with the thought of his sister with _any_ male, he was starting to see the benefits of such an arrangement. "If we _did_ ," he allowed, "how would each take to the other? They are, after all, nearly identical, and may not be open to the idea of intercourse with one another."

"Honestly," Lisa said, "there may be reluctance initially, but once they're in the same room, basking in each other's pheromones, and the topic comes up, I believe it'll be a simple matter of us leaving them alone."

Levi thoughtfully stroked his chin. For his part, he himself had always found Lisa attractive, more for her personality and intellect than for her appearance; why, then, couldn't Lincoln and Linka feel the same?

Sighing, he returned the gummy bears to the drawer and closed it. "Alright," he said, "when?"

"Today," Lisa said, and Levi blinked. So soon? "I will contrived to get everyone out of the house so that Lincoln and I will be alone. I'll contact you then."

With that, she leaned forward, pressed a button, and the screen went dark, leaving Levi alone with his thoughts.

And misgivings.


	2. Crossing Over

**SomeBloke420: The other universes don't play a role, so in essence it was throwaway information...or world-building. One of the two.**

 **STR2D3PO: The 90s was the last great decade. Things kind of went to hell around the year 2001 :(**

* * *

Lincoln Loud did what any boy of almost twelve would do after being caught stroking his penis by his little sister: Hid in his room and wouldn't come out.

Not that anyone tried to make him. It was a nice summer day and everyone was off doing their own thing: Lynn and Lana tossing the ol' pigskin in the backyard, Leni and Lori gone to the mall, Luna shredding her guitar and dancing around her room like Joan Jett, and everybody else...well, Lincoln didn't know. He wasn't his sisters' keeper.

Alone with his bitter, abiding shame, he first tried to read a comic book, but couldn't focus, so fired up his X-Station One for a little _Call of Honor,_ but couldn't concentrate there, either. He started off on X-Station Alive multiplayer, but six-year-olds in California who did nothing but play until they were pro-level kept killing him and calling him a fag, so he switched to campaign mode, and the AI took over where the kindergartners left off, only with less homophobia. Then again, the AI were Nazi soldiers, so the homophobia was there, just not front and center.

Giving up on _that,_ he retreated to the center of his bed, where he sat with his legs crossed like an Indian swami; also like an Indian swami, he sought inner peace...but did not find it. He _did_ find the erection that went away after Lisa walked in on him. _Yo, Linc, what it do? You tryna nut?_ No, goddamn it, I'm trying to achieve nirvana, now leave me alone.

 _Nirvana? You know that song Heart-Shaped Box, my man? It's about a woman's -_

I don't care!

 _Just like Little Red Corvette by Prince. And Sugar Walls by Sheena Easton. My House by The Mary Jane Girls, Cherry Pie by Warrant…_

Leave me alone!

 _You know Girl Jordan? She's cute, isn't she? Wears that skirt. Imagine this: You're at her house for a pool party, wearing nothing but thin, wet shorts that cling to your junk. Man, you're practically naked. You walk by, she's leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and a devilish little smile on her pink lips. "Hey, Linc, there's something I wanna show you in the pool house." She takes your hand - dude, she's so soft and warm and you can smell her perfume -_

Lincoln grimaced, his dick beginning to pulse. Stop, please, I'm begging you.

 _\- then she turns around, brushes her teeth over her lower lip...and lifts her skirt up, showing you her bare, pink, glistening pussy. "Do you like it?" she asks coyly. You show her that you do by walking over, kissing her, and rubbing it slowly._

I swear to God, I'm gonna cut you off.

 _Your tongues lapping and flicking, your fingers caressing her silky folds, getting wet with her juices. She rests her forearms on your shoulders and deepens the kiss, spreads her legs to give you easier access, starts shaking because YOU'RE MAKING HER CUM RIGHT ON YOUR HAND!_

Lincoln hung his head and sighed. This is my everyday, folks. Oh, but Linc, that's just how it goes, stop pissing and moaning. I know that's how it goes, but it's driving me crazy and I don't know how much more I can take. Is it normal to be _this_ randy? It legitimately interferes with my life. What if I have some kind of horrible disorder or something? What if it doesn't get better, but worse, like a deadly fever? 101.2. 103.4. 110.5.

At least a deadly fever would, you know, make me dead - I doubt _this_ will kill me, unless it drives me to leap in front of a speeding Mac truck just to get some relief.

You know what? Screw this. I'm gonna go get in on Lynn and Lana's ballgame. Running, jumping, and getting tackled to pulp by my wiry older sister will get my mind off this unbearing itching. Maybe if I'm lucky, Lynn'll hit me so hard I'll get amnesia and forget how sprung I am.

 _Or that she's your sister which leads to you -_

Cold horror filled his chest. Oh, no, fuck _that_.

Getting to his feet, he snatched his jeans from the floor, pulled them on over his underwear, then sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed his shoes.

Am I really getting so far down the rabbit hole that I'll start looking at my sisters? Jesus, man, that's gross. They're my sisters - ugh.

He stopped and tried to imagine kissing Lynn - with tongue - and a shiver dropped down the length of his spine. Okay, I'm not _that_ far gone yet, but I seem to be well on my way. You know what? Maybe I'll go to the arcade instead and try to find a girlfriend - I mean play Pac-Man. Pac-Man's great. Fifty years old and still as fun as the day it was released. Space Invaders too. In fact, all of those old games are a blast. Atari, Sega, N64. 007 Goldeneye for the N64 was one of the best first person shooters _ever_. And Driver for the PSOne was a good time even though it played kind of like a low rent Grand Theft Auto: 3. Speaking of GTA 3, that was one of his all time favorites; driving around, running over hookers and screaming on niggas with a bat.

Good times, good times.

 _How about you scream on a hooker with a bat irl._ Your _bat._

And get an STI and lose all self-respect because I couldn't get a girl on my own, I had to _pay_ for it.

 _Still had sex, though._

Well...you're not wrong, but screw you regardless.

Tying his shoes, he got up and went into the hall, stopping when a loud sound crashed against his eardrums.

Silence.

See, silence can be really loud if you're not used to it, and Lincoln was not used to the total absence of noise, especially in the middle of the day. Tilting his head to one side and then the other and resembling a man trying to drain water from his inner ears, he listened, but heard nothing. Curious now, he went to Luna and Luan's door and poked his head in.

Empty.

Hm.

Next he went to Leni's and Lori, but found more of the same. Maybe they're all downstairs sitting perfectly still.

Heh. Fat chance of _that_.

Turning away, he went down the steps, expecting to see at least one person on the couch: Instead the living room stood deserted and the TV off. Well, _that_ tells me no one's here. What, did they all decided on an impromptu trip to The Pizza Dungeon without me? Is it National No Lincoln Day? Am I going to go crazy and start talking to a car, build a Helga-like shrine to my best friend in the hall closet, and attack a bus with an ax? Or maybe they all died and I'll wind up like that guy from _The Twilight Zone,_ standing alone with a big, stupid grin. _Time enough to fap at last._ *Both hands fall off* _NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_

Oh, or will it be like that movie Left Behind where God raptures all the good guys and leaves the assholes? I mean, I'm not a saint *looks around* but I didn't think I was _that_ bad.

 _Shouldn't have thought about kissing your sister, Linc._

Well, I didn't think about kissing her, just forgetting that she was my sister and kissing her. Actually, no, I _did_ think about it, but it repulsed me.

 _Too bad, loser. Hang out with Kirk Cameron and the Antichrist._

God, I can't tell which one's worse.

Wandering aimlessly into the kitchen like Larry Underwood through Central Park after the Superflu, Lincoln found himself in the sun washed kitchen. At the back door, he peered out, and spotted Lynn's football sitting alone in the grass. He was uncomfortably reminded of The Mary Celeste, a ship waaaaay back in the day (when blacks weren't considered people, women couldn't vote, and everyone walked twenty miles uphill through the snow to go to school). It was found adrift with no hands on deck - literally, it was deserted. Plates were laid out on the table and a pipe still smoldered in the wheelhouse, which suggested a hasty disappearance. No one knew to this day what happened to them.

Just like the Loud family.

Whatever, I might as well go jack off.

His stomach rumbled.

After lunch.

* * *

 _Linka...I'm horny again._

Seriously? I _just_ got done playing with you.

 _I know, but boys...muscles...dicks._

Linka sighed. She was sitting in the middle of her bed with a Jane Austen hardback tented on her lap. It's your fault, she thought as she glared at the book. I was fine until the hero and heroine shared that passionate kiss. See? All it took was two or three lines of type to set her off...and the sad thing, it wasn't even _that_ steamy. Being a girl in the throes of puberty, though, she didn't need much stimulation to start feeling hot under the collar. Sometimes just the feeling of her panties rubbing against her did the trick - she'd be fine, get up, take a couple steps, and start blushing like crazy because _oooh, that feels good._

The same thing with her nipples. She was starting to grow breasts so she wore a bra now, but in the beginning she didn't, and the soft touch of her blouse sent quivers through her stomach that made it hard to think, focus, and even speak. Was that normal? Claudia didn't seem to have it that bad, and neither did Mama Stoppie or any of her other friends. From what she'd heard about boys and their puberty, she was starting to think she was more like them then a girl. And maybe she was just a slut.

Sigh, She didn't want to be a slut. Or a ho. Or a thot. She just wanted this freaking awful pressure to stop and leave her alone. She'd be _so_ happy if it did - she'd even do a dorky happy dance in front of the whole school because _ahhhh, sweet relief_.

 _Linka...come on, touch me again. Make me purrrr like the kitty I am._

Ugh. _You,_ young lady, are the thot, not me. If it wasn't for you, I'd be reading my book right now and not staring at the wall and fighting back thoughts of boys, boys, boys. I'm to the point where even though I want them, I'm so sick of them I could scream. Go away! Leave me alone! Take your yummy six packs, toned arms, cute smiles, and especially your penises and shove them up your butts.

Blowing a puff of air, she picked up her book and gave it a longing glance. We must part, my dear, because my vagina won't let me concentrate on you. Fear not, though, for we will be reunited *dramatically presses back of hand to forehead*

She snapped it closed and sat it on the nightstand. Maybe she'd play a game on her phone - she had a bunch and some of them were really fun. Her favorite was Ms. Pac-Man. She was awesome, eating orbs and running from ghosts. You really had to admire her ability to have an appetite while being chased by spirits. If it was Linka, food would be the last thing on her mind. _Oh, no, the phantoms are gaining on me! Let me stop for a little snacky-poo._ She liked old games, they were all a good time. Space Invaders, Centipede, oooh, Breakout. Breakout was nice. She found her Dad's old Super Nintendo in the attic last year, and he hooked it up for her, but it stopped working a few weeks ago. Sigh. She could play most of the games he had online, but having the actual controller in your hands was better.

Oh well. She wasn't _that_ big on games. She was a bookworm - she _loved_ reading, especially classics like Dickens and Twain. She also _maaaaay_ really enjoy Superhero comics, but everyone thinks it's weird if a girl reads those, so she kept it on the DL. Speaking of, she had an Ace Savvy comic on her top drawer that needed a good reading. Maybe she'd be able to focus on that considering it had pictures. She just hoped Rock-Man didn't show up - he was a big guy made of rock and he didn't wear a shirt *fans self*

She leaned over, opened the drawer, and pulled it out, the brush of her inner thighs against her purring kitty sending shockwaves through her body. Ugh, really! Stop!

 _You know who's super cute, Linka? Boy Jordan._

Ugh, no, don't you _even._

 _Wouldn't it be hot if you were and him were walking through a trail in the woods holding hands, then you let go, lifted your skirt, and showed him your pussy?_

She chewed her bottom lip. Well…

 _Then he puts one hand on your cheek, the other between your legs, and starts playing with you as he kisses you crazy good?_

She shook her head. No! Go. A. Way. _No bueno._

 _Ummm yes bueno, especially when you start shaking like a leaf in a tree, your knees turn to jelly, and you cum all over his big, strong, wiggling hand._

She took a deep, determined breath through her nose and let it out slowly - her brow was set and her lips a white slash across her face. She looked like a girl who had had enough because that's flipping, freaking exactly what she was. I don't want to think about this anymore. I want to read a comic, or play a game, or walk down the street, or simply stare at the wall without you chiming in every two seconds about how badly you want to be touched. I know. I get it. I heard you the first fifty thousand times, now shut _up._

 _But -_

No! No buts allowed.

 _Not even the hot, tight, cute boy kind?_

Especially those.

 _But, Link -_

I said good day!

She pointed toward the door, and her incessant libido, hanging its head with a sad sigh, trudged out. Good riddance to bad rub -

It turned around and came back. J/k, Linka, I'm here to stay!

Screaming in utter madness, Linka grabbed her hair and pulled, then curled up in a little ball and rocked back and forth like a baby.

Okay, that didn't _really_ happen, but she _totally_ felt like she really could scream and pull all of her hair out. Here's a random thought: In movies and stuff, when someone goes insane, their hair turns white. Hers was already white, so if she tipped over the edge into madness, what color would _hers_ turn? Black? Hmmm. How would she look with black hair? Probably like Lars. She'd considered dying it before, but her mom made a big fuss about _you're beautiful the way you are, honey._ I know, but...having white hair's kind of embarrassing sometimes; kids didn't really make fun of her for it now, but they used to. *Hangs head* In first grade her nickname was Grandma. In second it was Snow White.

Plus, she was honestly curious about how she'd look. Nothing wrong with that, right?

She scrunched her lips to the side in thought. There _was_ hair dye in the house - because Mom was starting to go gray (what happened to _you're beautiful the way you are,_ huh, Mom?). How disappointed/angry/some third emotion would Mom be if Linka _secretly_ dyed her hair? Probably not too much. The catch was, the dye was blonde. Did she really want blonde hair? For some reason she didn't think that would be a good color on her. You know what might look good? Purple streaks.

Unfortunately, there was no purple dye in the house, though she supposed she could hop on her bike and ride to the Rite-Aid on the corner of Franklin and Rosemont, they might -

Her thoughts cut off when someone knocked on the door. "Yeah?" she called.

The knob turned and Levi poked his head in. "Linka, I require assistance, please."

"Okay," Linka said instantly and got up. Though she was only eleven (almost twelve), she had long been something of a den other to her brothers, especially the younger ones: She baked for them, helped them with their homework, got on their butts when they needed to pick up after themselves or did something wrong, hugged them when they were sad, and made their boo boos all better when they were hurt. She was too young to know whether or not she wanted children of her own, but she did enjoy playing mom to her boys, and whenever they needed her, she was right there to help. Unless they bothered her during one of her shows, then the little creeps were on their own.

*Pretty smile*

Levi withdrew from the doorway and Linka followed him into the hall - Loki leaned against the wall flanking the bathroom door with his head bent over his phone and Lexx stood across from him, glaring. As soon as whoever was in there came out, they were going to make a dash for it. Loki was taller and stronger, so he'd probably brush Lexx aside. Then again, Lexx was smaller and didn't mind hitting below the belt, so it was anyone's game really. Her maternal instincts kicked in and she started to call to them, but Lynn popped up in front of her and Levi and startled her so badly she yelped. "Hey, Link, did you finish my shorts yet?"

During his last game of tackle football with his neighborhood friends, Lynn ripped his gym shorts down the back, thus he brought them to her like a boy bringing his dying puppy to a vet. _Can you sew these? Please?_

"Yeah," she said, "they're on my dresser."

He grinned. "Thanks. Can I get 'em?"

Though her brothers came and went from each other's room unannounced and without permission, they never went into her room unless she said it was okay. "Sure."

Patting Levi hard on the top of the head, Lynn bounded off to claim his prize. In Levi's room, he shut the door and went over to his computer. Linka noticed that the teleportation device that usually sat in a corner under a sheet was pulled out and uncovered. It was a wide, silver and cylindrical contraption with a clear, coffin lid-like door and resembled a rocket.

She froze.

"Uh...it doesn't involve _that,_ does it?" she asked.

In his chair with his back to her, fingers flying across the keyboard, Levi hummed. "Actually,' he said, "it does."

Oh.

Well…

In _that_ case…

"I just remembered, I have something to do."

Linka wasn't a scaredy cat - unless she was watching a super creepy movie or outside alone at night - but Levi's teleportation chamber legitimately frightened her. _If the concordinances are not input properly,_ he told her, _you could wind up on the bottom of the ocean or in the cold, frigid vacuum of outer space, whereupon your head will swell and then pop._ His eyes shone with excitement when he told her this, as though he looked forward to dying a horrible, lonely death in the dark recesses of the cosmos. Maybe he was, but Linka sure wasn't, and while it might be irrational, she was certain that stepping into that thing, or even going anywhere near it, was as good as stepping off a chair with a noose around your neck.

Presently, Levi jabbed a button, and the chamber began to glow, which meant that it was on and ready to send you to Mars or to the ocean floor. "I assure you it's safe," he said and got up. He went to it and held a card to the black keypad flanking the door; it opened with a pneumatic whoosh. "Now come on. We have to leave at once."

Linka's heart dropped. Was he asking her to get in that thing? He turned, frowned at her distress, and came forward, his normally stoic features softening - just a little. "Linka," he said tenderly, "I wouldn't ask you to get into the teleporter if I was not one hundred percent sure it was safe." He smiled tightly, and in his eyes, she saw earnesty. "Please?"

"O-Okay," she heard herself say, "but...where are we going and why?"

"It's a surprise," he said and patted her hand.

She cocked a stern brow, and Levi chafed like a boy under the intense scrutiny of his mother. "I have a special...day...planned. Just for you. Trust me, you'll enjoy yourself."

Hm. A special day planned just for me. Ooooh, maybe we're going to Paris. I've always wanted to go there: If that cartoon skunk is any indication, French boys are _very_ passionate...they'll trail kisses up your arm until they reach your lips and...nevermind. "Alright," she said, "fine. Let's go."

"Splendid," Levi said. Taking her hand, he lead her over to the machine, and despite his reassurances, her stomach knotted with dread. "Watch your step," he worried, and Linka stepped up into the chamber, her heart slamming now. Levi let go of her hand, closed the door, and punched a few buttons on another keypad. "We'd be more likely to meet with an accident on an airliner," he said. He stood there with his hands behind his back and his chest thrown out in a pose bespeaking confidence, and Linka relaxed a little...but still cried out when the machine began to whirr, and desperately clutched his hand when the glass, through which the room was visible, began to shimmer with electricity. She pressed her knees together and squeezed her eyes closed - this is it, I'm gonna die.

Levi held her hand protectively. "It's alright, Link," he said, his voice warm and soothing, "in fact…" he missed a beat, then another, then one more, the suspense building and building until it was crushing her, strangling her, ahhhhh "...we're there."

The machine, hitherto humming and vibrating lightly, fell completely still. Linka pried one eye cautiously open, then the other when she realized, hey, we're not on Mars, we're…

She squinted through the glass.

Still in the bedroom. Yep, there's the carpet, the door, Leon's crib against the wall...we didn't even leave the house. Lol.

"I don't think it worked," she said.

"Of course it did," Levi said. He punched a few buttons, and the door opened. "Watch your step." He hopped down, and Linka followed, looking around like a woman on a sightseeing tour of Manhattan. Ooooh, there's the Empire State Building, there's the Chrysler Building, there's a pigeon. Awww.

Only...wait a second...something wasn't right. She stopped and furrowed her brow in thought, then it hit her: His lab setup was different: The table with all of his beakers and tubes wasn't in the same spot and his computer desk was bigger and L-shaped rather than...uh...I-shaped, I guess.

Toto...I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and suddenly, she felt like a whole flock of geese had just walked across her grave. "W-Where are we?" she asked, her voice lowering when she noticed something odd. Leon's crib...the blankets were blue before...now they were pink.

Levi, his back to her and his hands on his hips, scanned the room. "1216 Franklin Avenue," he said, "Royal Woods, Michigan." There was an amused hilt to his voice that told her he was being facetious. She looked around again, and took a deep whiff through her nose.

Every house, every trailer, every apartment, has its own distinct smell, and the people who live there are so used to it that they don't even notice it after a while. Linka noticed the smell here, and it was unlike the smell to which she was accustomed. Sweet, in a sickly, rotting flowers on top of a casket sort of way. Her nose crinkled and her lips puckered. "This isn't our house," she said. It was a statement, a bold declaration of absolute certitude: It looked like their house, to an extent, but was positively _not._

"You're not entirely wrong," Levi said over his shoulder, "but you're not entirely right, either."

Huh?

"Follow me," he said.

Looking left and right as if expecting an attack (which she totally was), Linka followed Levi into the hall, her fists balled to her chest and her steps uncertain as though the floor were ice. Everything looked pretty much the same, though the end table sat against the opposite wall from where it did at home, and the colors of the vase and flowers were switched: Here the vase was blue and the flowers were pink. "It's just up here," Levi said and nodded toward her room...or what was her room at home. Here it was probably the bathroom or something.

The surreality of everything being so alike yet so monumentally _different_ made Linka's head spin. "Where _are_ we?" she asked, glancing left and right. There was a white spot on the wall next to Lars and Lynn's room where someone patched a hole. There was not one at home.

"You'll see in a second," Levi said. At her door, he laid his hand on the knob and rapped his knuckles against the wood. A voice called for them to enter, and, sparing a glance at Linka as if to make sure she was still with him and okay, he opened it.

What Linka saw made her jaw drop.

It was her room almost exactly, down to the bed being against the north wall and the dresser at the foot. The bedframe was different, though - hers was white metal, this one was wood with a solid headboard instead of bars. The walls were beige vs. her pink. The desk under the window was cluttered, papers, books, action figures, and other things centered around an open laptop. _Her_ desk was neat and tidy.

The most shocking thing was the little girl sitting in the chair facing them, her arms and legs crossed. Clad in light maroon pants and a baggy green sweater, her brown hair messy and tangled, she looked liked Levi.

Exactly.

Except for the clothes.

Linka blinked then rubbed her eyes like a cartoon character who couldn't believe what they were seeing and thought _hey, maybe I just need to clean out my cornea and everything will go back to normal._ The little girl remained where she was, however, her expression one of flat indifference.

"We're here," Levi announced; he sounded less than thrilled by that fact.

"It took you long enough," the girl said, a faint trace of friendly teasing in her voice, "I was expecting you at 2:05:30 not 2:05:57."

Levi crossed to the bed and climbed on, his little legs dangling well above the floor. "I neglected to calibrate the flux capacitor," he said. "I wasn't expecting to make a trip today, after all."

Have you ever felt so light-headed you almost fall down? Linka had, tons of times, but never quite as strong as now. In fact, her knees gave completely out and the only thing that saved her was the dresser - she rested heavily against it, took a deep breath, and centered herself like Helga McBride taught her - she was a yoga teacher and knew all kinds of tricks and stuff. None to get boys off your mind, though.

When she looked up, Levi and Girl Levi were both looking at her, Girl Levi with a quizzically raised brow and Boy Levi - _her_ Levi - with concern. "Are you alright?" he asked.

No, she flipping wasn't. She was in some kind of bizarro world where everything she knew was slightly askance - not enough to bowl you over but more than enough to unsettle you - and, to top it all off...her brother was a girl. Not really, because he was right there, bu...grrrr...you know what I mean. "No," she said as calmly as she could, "I am _not_. I was expecting to go to Paris, or to a comic book convention, or to a spa, not…" she cast a stricken look around the room "...wherever this is. Where are we?" The last three words came out as a command, in a tone she reserved for when she _really_ meant business.

Levi instantly opened his mouth to tell her exactly what she wanted to know (ha, it always works) but Girl Levi held up a forestalling hand and looked directly at Linka; there was a defiant glint in her eyes that gave Linka pause. "In due time," she said, "meanwhile, sit next to your brother."

Linka wasn't used to being told what to do - by her parents, yes, but certainly not by her brothers. Usually, it was _her_ telling _them_ what to do. The little girl in front of her, however, was not her brother, even though she looked like him. For a moment she considered protesting further, but the little girl's challenging glare was enough to make Linka buckle; she backed down and sat beside Levi, her arms folding across her chest and a look of displeasure crossing her face. Girl Levi's parents had obviously never taught her to respect her elders; who did she think she was, anyway?

The little girl stared at her for a moment - _give me a reason -_ then turned to Levi, her features softening just a touch. "You were saying?"

Levi's brows furrowed in confusion, then lifted. "Oh, the flux capacitor. It's off by one/eighth. I've had every intention of getting around to it, but it hasn't happened yet."

"How's your research coming?"

Levi nodded. "Well. I'm on the verge of a breakthrough and in several days' time, I should be done. That is if the Pentagon will stop calling me every five minutes for instruction on how to use the goddamn security system I designed them."

"Levi!" Linka gasped.

The little boy's face crinkled painfully when he realized his mistake. "I apologize. It slipped."

She knew darn well that her older brothers cussed, and while she would chastise them for it when she heard it, she didn't police them the way she did the younger ones. "That's an ugly word. Why is it even in your mouth to slip in the first place?"

Girl Levi watched with detached interest as Levi rubbed the back of his neck and stumbled out a lame reply. Linka could feel her eyes on her like a burning death ray, and it took everything she had to not chafe. She already stood down once, she wasn't going to do it again.

After a moment's silence, the girl shafted. "Well, the Pentagon is filled with goddamn morons, so that's to be expected."

Linka glared, and the little girl grinned almost imperceptibly. She ought to say something ( _you have a potty mouth and need to go in time out_ ), but wound up going back on what she said a few seconds ago and stood down again. Girl Levi nodded as if to say _that's right, you're on my turf now,_ then turned to Levi. "Have you decided whether or not to take that teaching position at Harvard?"

Being a genius of epic proportions, Levi had already graduated both high school and college, and was highly sought after by many ivy league universities. Linka was very proud of him. I bet Girl Levi is still a senior at Yale or something. Pffft. Maybe if your parents raised you better, you'd have spent more time studying than being rude.

"Probably not," Levi said, "I don't believe that telecommuting will allow me to build a real rapport with the students."

"Telecommuting is the future," Girl Levi pointed out.

Levi ticked his head back and forth in thought. "Not necessarily. Nothing will replace - "

At the same time Levi broke off and Girl Levi looked toward the door, Linka caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eye and whipped her head around.

If she was shocked by seeing a girl who looked just like Levi, she was mortified to see a boy _who looked just like her_. He stood in the doorway, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in a perfect O of surprise. For a moment the world seemed to stop, and with it Linka's heart. She felt her mind beginning to blow - literally - and the room started to spin like she was going to pass out. The boy, dressed in an orange polo shirt and jeans, darted his eyes from her, then to Levi, and finally to Girl Levi. He opened his mouth to speak, but wound up looking like a fish gasping for air as it flopped on the shore. "W-W-W-What the hell is _this?"_ he asked.

The uncanny pall broken, Linka shot a withering glance at Girl Levi. Alright, I've had enough. No more mister nice guy. I want answers and I want them now. "I'd like to know too," she demanded.

Girl Levi gestured toward the bed. "Sit."

Boy Linka (God, that's so weird) stared at Girl Levi, then came over; Linka's heart jumped and she shoved closer to Levi as though Boy Linka had the plague...which, for all she knew, he did. For his part, he hesitated, then sat stiffly next to her, scooting over and adding another few inches to the gulf between them. "Alright, Lisa," he said, "talk."

Lisa adjusted her glasses. "Well, first of all, this is Linka and Levi. They come from an alternate dimension where genders are swapped, for lack of a better term."

"Alternate dimension?" Linka and Lincoln both gaped.

"Yes," Lisa said. "Six months ago, I set out to prove the multiverse theory - the concept of multiple universes existing side-by-side."

"At the same time, I set out to disprove it," Levi said.

Lisa grinned smugly. "As you can see, _I_ was right."

"And a braggart as well," Levi said.

"That too," Lisa said, then continued. "I was able to establish contact with several such dimensions, one of them being Levi's. In every one of them, we all exist simultaneously, from you and I, Lincoln, to historical figures such as George Washington and Spartacus. There are discrepancies - sometimes major, sometimes minor - but for some reason, while things change from one reality to another, human beings do not. Their personalities, perhaps, but not _them_. I liken it to a hall of mirrors in a carnival funhouse. There are a dozen different reflections, many distorted, but all of the same thing. You, for instance."

Linka's head spun, not because she couldn't follow what Lisa was saying (she could) but because the concept was so freaking mind-boggling.

Shifting again, Lisa went on. "Levi's, thus far, is the closest to our own, the only major difference being that males here are females there."

"And females there are males here."

Instinctively, Linka stole a sidelong glance at Lincoln...just as he did the same to her; their eyes met, then darted away like timid goldfish in a bowl. If Linka understood correctly, and she was certain that she did, Lincoln was her but male...and she was him but female. "You said something about funhouse mirrors," Linka said, cutting Lisa off.

"Yes."

"Well...for there to be a reflection," she said, "there has to, like, be something to make the reflection."

Lisa nodded. "Levi's taught you the basics."

Ignoring the little girl's snark, Linka went on. "Does that mean that…?"

"One of us isn't real?" Lincoln asked. There was worry in his voice.

The two geniuses exchanged a look, and Levi sighed. "We don't know. It's possible that one of our realities is simply a reflection of something else, a 'real' world, and it's possible that both of our realities are a reflection. Or neither. All of us, however, are indeed _real_. We live, breathe, bleed, and experience the full range of human emotions."

Linka's head was starting to hurt. She put her hand to her temple and rubbed. "This is crazy," she said, and a sharp, humorless laugh escaped her throat. Somewhere in the great wide multiverse, there was very likely a girl, or a boy, who cast a shadow, and it's name was Linka Margaret Loud.

"This does not invalidate our humanity, Linka" Levi said softly and squeezed her shoulder. "We're still us."

Yeah? Well...what if we aren't? What if we're just someone's reflection? And what if everything we are is dictated by someone else, someone _real,_ unlike us?

Next to her, Lincoln raked a trembling hand through his hair and drew a burdensome sigh. If he was really her, and she was him, he was probably thinking pretty much the same thing. "H-H-How does this _work?"_ he asked.

"I could give you theory, but it would be so steeped in scientific jargon you wouldn't understand it. Suffice it to say, there are possibly an infinite number of realities, and an infinite number of us-variants all, at their core, more similar to us than not. By no means identical, though. You and Linka, for instance, are very much alike, but not entirely the same. We are molded by various factors, gender, of course, being one. Society does not treat boys exactly the same as it does girls. There are different standards, customs, and expectations for both, and both are treated differently, therefore we are _shaped_ differently." She took a deep breath and continued. "The two of you share many, many traits, however, and would get along splendidly."

Linka and Lincoln glanced at each other again, their eyes lingering a little longer as their curiosity slowly overcame their trepidation.

"Linka," Lisa said, "why don't you tell Lincoln a bit about yourself?"

Linka's heart sputtered. Oh...wow...uh, way to put me on the spot. "Um...well...I like to read," she offered as she looked at her hands; they rested firmly in her lap. "And bake."

When it became clear that that was all, Lisa looked at Lincoln. "Tell Linka about _your_ self."

Swallowing nervously, Lincoln rubbed the back of his neck. "I like comic books," he said at length, "and video games. I mean...yeah."

Oh. She liked those things too, but not as much as he must, since those were the first things he thought to bring up.

"See?" Lisa asked with manufactured delight. "Very much alike."

From the way she said it, Linka got the impression that the little _wanted_ them to find similar qualities in each other. Which begged the question: "Okay. Why are we here? There's a reason, right?"

Lisa nodded. "Yes, actually, there _is_ a reason."

When she didn't continued, Lincoln made a circular motion with his hand. "Okay, so?" he asked impatiently. "D-Does she need a kidney or something?"

Uh, no. My kidneys are fine, thank you. I think. I _hope_.

"No not quite," Lisa said, "but she does need _something_."

Linka's heart jogged, and she whipped her head to Levi. What? What do I need? A heart? A spleen? Whatever it was, he didn't tell her; instead, he blushed slightly and turned away.

"And so do you," Lisa told Lincoln.

Lincoln blinked in something approaching surprise. "W-What do I need?"

Lisa glanced at Levi, and he stared down at his lap in embarrassment. Oh, God, it must be really bad; Linka was starting to get scared, her little heart pounding against her breast and her lungs beginning to squeeze. Every once in a while, she had, like, mini panic attacks, but only when big things happen, like the time she was babysitting Lexx and Leif and they caught the kitchen on fire. She sprang into action and put it out _then,_ standing among the charred ruins, she started...shaking...gasping for breath…

She took a deep, calming breath. Lisa was staring at her, and Linka was getting _really_ tired of the suspense. "What is it?" she demanded.

Lisa regarded her for a moment, the slowly took off her glasses and polished them with the hem of her sweater - Levi often did the same. It was a nervous tic or something. "Well, both of you are of a...certain age, and are dealing with similar...feelings."

Both Lincoln and Linka cocked their heads in confusion.

Putting her glasses back on and, apparently, taking strength from them the way Samson derived strength from his hair, she said, "You're both horny toads."

For a split second, Linka had no idea what the little girl was talking about...then it hit her and her heart exploded, sending a hot red blush across her face. Next to her, Lincoln's cheeks burned crimson and horror filled his eyes. "Uh, no I'm not, you know, I -" he fumbled, but his sister held up a hand like a crossing guard. _Stop._

"Don't deny it, Lincoln. I caught you masturbataing earlier."

The little air remaining in Linka's lungs squeezed out in a rush, and she reflexively glanced at Lincoln like you'd glance at a car wreck as you passed by. Though she was weirded out, unsettled, and extremely embarrassed, she couldn't stop the image that came to her mind: A hard, yummy penis in a hand. Her core twinged...then she remembered that it was basically her penis and things got awkward.

When she realized that Lisa was looking at her, self-conscious alarm flooded her chest and she sputtered. "I-I-I'm not," she lied. "I-I-I don't…"

"Yes you are," Levi sighed. "It's quite obvious."

Oh, God, it is?

"As it is with you, Lincoln," Lisa said. He sat hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands, reminding Linka of an ostrich with its head in the sand. Poor guy was probably humiliated; she would be too if Levi said something like that about her in front of people.

"I can't believe this," he said like a dazed man who'd just watched his home carried off by Godzilla. The atmosphere was heavy with tension now, and Linka started to chafe.

"Well, believe it," Lisa said, and looked at Linka; the older girl cringed. "I assume you masturbate as well."

Linka shook her head quickly. "Ew, no."

Humming incredulously, Lisa turned to Levi. "Are you aware of her mastubatory habits?"

"No," Levi said just as quickly, and it was clear from the guilt in his voice that _oh, my God, he does._ Linka blushed even harder and crossed her arms; she felt cold and like she was going to be sick.

Lisa hummed again. "Right." She turned to Lincoln and Linka. "Anyway, both of you are out of your minds with hormones, and it's frankly painful to watch. Levi and I have done research - perhaps you remember me taking everyone's DNA sometime back - and we've reached the conclusion that while we, in all universes, are technically the same person, our genetic makeup is, in fact, unique, meaning that you are not actually related. It is also different enough in composition that cold germs from our universe, say, would not be able to affect Linka and vice versa."

"What are you getting at?" Lincoln asked with a long-suffering hilt.

Linka wanted to know too.

"Well," Lisa said, "we've brought you here today so that you can...help each other with your problem."

Again, Linka was totally baffled for a beat, then the implication of the little girl's words sank in, and her stomach clutched. Next to her, Lincoln whipped his head up from his hands, the shock and horror on his face much, much stronger than before. "Don't play coy," Lisa said, "you're both consumed with lust and need to get it out of your system. Why not do it with each other? As I think I've made clear, you're extremely compatible."

Lincoln opened and closed his mouth. "W-W-We're also extremely identical." His eyes flicked to Linka, then to her bare leg, lingering for just a second before going back to Lisa.

"No, you're not," Lisa said. "Linka's features are softer and her facial structure is slightly different. She's a very attractive girl, actually."

Linka was too gobsmacked by everything happening to notice the compliment.

"And, Linka, Lincoln is a handsome boy. Notice his muscular arms - he's been training with our sister Lynn recently and building muscle mass."

Linka couldn't help it - she darted her eyes to Lincoln's arm, and yep, it was pretty toned. Still...he was her! Basically. Kind of. Right? Between her legs, the source of all her troubles twinged a little. _He's horny just like you! Isn't that hot?_

No!

 _Are you sure about that?_

Pretty sure, yeah.

 _I bet if you took your clothes off and laid back on the bed, he'd explore your body just like in your fantasy. Then you could explore his~_

Shut up!

Beside her, Lincoln was having similar thoughts, his eyes tracing the soft curve of her leg from the swell of her thigh, against which the hem of her skirt lay lank, to the top of her purple sock, pulled high up her calf.

 _Bro…_

 _Dude…_

 _Girl…_

But she looks just like me. That's...that's some next level weird. Who can get it up for themselves, I mean…?

 _You got it up for yourself earlier…_

No, no I did _not_. I got it up thinking about a girl who looked nothing like me.

 _She's as horny as you are, though. That's really fucking hot. Lookalike or not._

Well...she didn't look _exactly_ like him. Lisa was right, her features _were_ softer, her eyes bigger, her lashes fuller, cheekbones higher. Her throat was different too...more smoother, more delicate, more kissable.

*Hank Hill _uhhhhh_ of disgust*

She stared down at her hands, fisted in her lap, her cheeks pink. Her hair was like his, only longer, and looked softer, shinier. She wore an orange hair clip, pearl earrings, and a sleeveless blouse that bared her gentle arms. He caught sight of her budding breasts pushing against the front, and he couldn't stop himself from imagining how they would feel in his hands.

He shuddered.

"You're both noticing each other," Lisa said, "good."

Linka blinked. He was looking at her? She glanced over just as he glanced away, and her heart started pounding even faster. The idea of a horny boy looking at her made her core quiver, doppelganger or not.

She was totally looking at him! He couldn't help it, his body started to respond because there was a _horny girl_ checking him out: His heart throbbed and his stomach gurgled while Lil' Lincoln whipped up to a standing position with an earth-shattering roar, like a Kraken rising from the depths.

A sly grin crossed Lisa's face, and she looked at Levi, who squirmed uncomfortably. "Levi and I have something to attend to. Why don't you two...hang out? Play a video game or...something." She put suggestive spin on _something_ that made Linka's heart crash with a mixture of nerves, anxiety, and excitement. Lisa got up, nodded toward the door, and Levi followed, sparing Linka a longing glance...and shooting a withering look at Lincoln.

Then, like that, Lincoln and Linka were alone.

Together.


	3. Breaking the Ice

**Guest: No. That's a fanfic, right? I know the name, but I can't place it right now. Never read it.**

 **Guest: No, males were still dominant throughout the history of her world. I look at it this way: Here, George Washington was the first US president and he was married to Martha Washington. In Linka's world, it was, like, idk, Martin Washington and his wife Georgeanna.**

* * *

Lincoln nervously licked his lips and tried to regulate his breathing so that he didn't pant like a creeper. His hands rested limply in his lap and his eyes stared straight ahead at the Glob Man poster on the wall flanking the closet. His heart felt like it was being squeezed in steely claws and his stomach like it was literally being shredded from the inside out. Linka filled his periphery, and he did he best not to look at her head on - if he did, she'd know he was trying to check her out and think he was -

 _You heard Lisa. She's just as horny as you._

His stomach twisted and his dick strained against the crotch of his underwear like a feral dog against it leash. Okay, she looks...a lot like me, and that's _kind_ of weird...but there's a horny girl sitting on my bed with her knees pressed coquettishly together and her lips sucked cutely in - I can smell her sweet perfume and...God, is that her crotch? There's something else, something wild, dank, and it's driving me crazy.

Breaking, he hazarded a slow glance at Linka - she stared down at her lap, her long, slender fingers worrying at the hem of her dress. As he watched, she brushed her hair behind her ear, long, snowy white strands caressing the side of her throat. She wore a silver chain that lay against her creamy skin and rustled when she moved, and a black hair tie around her wrist. He swallowed and darted his eyes to her face, so much like his own, but different, girlish, feminine, her jawline soft and smooth, her glossy lips fuller, pinker; Lincoln found himself wondering what they would taste like, and turned shamefully away. He was getting turned on...by his female self. That's...that's something.

It's like getting turned on for your sister who looks so much like you even random people are like _oh, they're brother and sister._ Some people like looking in a mirror as they get busy because, Lincoln assumed, they were narcissistic sociopaths who loved themselves in an unhealthy way. He wasn't like that (he didn't hate himself, but he didn't pop erections when he looked in the mirror), but...he was so turned on right now it was stupid. He could so vividly picture laying her down and kissing her, his hand brushing up the outside of her leg and pushing her shirt to her hips, that his hand shook and he could almost _feel_ her.

He sensed her looking at him, and fought to keep from meeting her gaze and scaring her away like a timid fawn. His face burned and he was legit afraid to move or even breathe.

Linka allowed her eyes to wander from Lincoln's strong jaw to his toned arm - when she noticed how _full_ his crotch looked, her breath caught. Is...is he hard? Oh, my God, that's so hot. She flicked her gaze to his face - it was a deep and painful shade of red, like he'd been in the sun too long, and his eyes, pointed at the wall, seemed to thrum, as if they were fighting to turn to her and was holding back. _No, don't look at her. Bad._ She went back to his crotch and unconsciously bit her lower lip, a whine rising in the back of her throat and her core pinching. _Yes, please, I'll have some of_ that.

She was so close she could reach out and cup it in her hand, trace its outline with her fingers, feel its firmy, masculine warmth radiating through rough denim, explore every square inch, then take it out, look at it, stroke it, taste it, and sate her girlish curiosity. She could see herself now, mouth agape in wonder and eyes huge as she drink it in, her cheeks scarlet, her chest rising and falling as her excitement grew and grew until it burst against her frame like a lead balloon. A _hot_ lead balloon.

The crotch of her panties was damp now, clinging wetly (and uncomfortably) to her swollen lips like a second skin. She shifted in the hopes they would come unstuck, but they didn't. Sigh.

She swallowed thickly and opened her mouth to speak, but words deserted her, as they always did when she tried to talk to a boy. This time around, it was double because...wow, this is a pretty strange situation. I've been really wanting to do things with a boy for, like, ever, but now that I'm here, I'm kind of...I don't even _know_ him, and while that doesn't mean anything to my body, I feel like just jumping his bones is wrong. Like it'll make me a slut or something. I don't _want_ to be a slut...but I do wanna do slutty things *wink*

Lincoln was having misgivings of his own. For the past six months, eight months, whatever, he'd been horny non-stop and constantly thinking about girls, girls, girls - he was worse than Motley Crue. Sitting next to one on his bed and knowing that she was feeling the exact same fire down below, he was _very_ turned on, but... and maybe it's not cool for a guy to think this way...he didn't know Linka. Most of the girls he thought about were girls he'd talked to, whose personalities he knew, girls he'd hung out with and laughed with and...and all _that_ stuff. Part of him wanted to just do Linka, but another part, a very strong and vocal part, wouldn't let him because…

It seemed wrong.

He stole a sidelong glance and swept his gaze up and down her body. He could see himself...you know, 'with' her...but not like... _Hi, I'm Lincoln, nice to meet you_ *grabs pussy*

Who was he, Donald Trump?

Heh. But yeah, he could see it clearly - her lying back on the bed with a beautiful blush, maybe chewing on the tip of her pointer finger, naked except for her socks and that necklace, her eyes hazy and narrow as he ran his hands slowly up her body, from her silken legs, over her quivering stomach, across the nubs of her breasts, then down to the little garden of mysteries between her thighs. He could see himself taking his time, letting his hands linger here and there, completely satisfying his boyish curiosity...then getting on top of her.

 _Ring, ring. Hey, Linc, it's your dick, stop fucking around and PUT ME IN HER! PLEASE! DIP ME IN HER WET HEAT, I'M DYING HERE!_

Is he going to talk to me? Linka wondered. She stole a look at him, and frowned slightly. Maybe he's super nervous, like me. Lisa did say we're a lot alike. Lol. _That's_ an understatement. I guess I have to take the lead. I can be pushy, you know - playing middle management to ten brothers and all - but I don't want him to feel like I'm a bossy bitch or something like that. One of us has to talk, though.

She waited a moment, and when it was clear that _one of them_ wasn't going to be Lincoln, she took a deep breath, not knowing what to say so going for the long-hanging fruit. "This is really weird." She uttered a nervous laugh.

"Yeah," he said, "it is. I-I'm still trying to wrap my head around the concept."

Linka nodded. "Umhm. Me too. Like...you're me and I'm you, but not...really?" She frowned.

"It's...it's pretty…"

"Mind-boggling," they said together, then laughed sheepishly. From there, they lapsed into awkward silence. "I assume you have ten sisters," Linka said, forcing the conversation back to life like a defibrillator in a hospital drama. _Clear!_

Lincoln nodded. "Yeah, uh...t-ten sisters. Lori, Leni, Luna, Luan, Lynn, Lucy, Lola, Lana, Lisa, and Lily. Oldest to, uh, to youngest. You have...brothers?"

"Yeah," she said, "Loki, Loni, Luke, Lane, Lynn, Lars, Leif, Lexx, Levi, and Leon." She added: "That's oldest to youngest too."

For a moment Lincoln digested the information like a gas station chilldog - heartburn and all. When he spoke, his voice was halting. "What...what are they like?"

Linka considered her response. "Well...Loki's kind of a bully to everyone but me…"

"Sounds like Lori," Lincoln said, "except she's a bully to me too."

"Does she use her phone a lot?"

Lincoln snickered. "Yeah, she's always on it."

"Wow," Linka breathed, "that's freaky, Loki too. Loni is…" she trailed off, not sure exactly how to explain her second oldest brother.

Luckily, Lincoln did it for her. "Sweet but not the brightest?"

She smiled fondly. "Yep. That's him; he's the sweetest thing ever but he's...he's pretty dull." She hated being so blunt and uncharitable, but it was true, Loni was a wet match in a dark cave. His heart of gold more than made up for it, though.

Humming his agreement, Lincoln said, "Same with Leni. Sometimes it's...a real challenge…"

"Oh, I know," Linka said, "sometimes you have to be really careful in how you explain things to him. One time Loki to time 'make my bed' and -"

"He made an actual bed, didn't he?" Lincoln asked with grin.

Linka laughed. "Yes! He started building a bed, it was hilarious."

"Leni did the same thing. Does your brother have his license yet?" He watched her curiously, his forearms resting on his knees and his hands loosely laced. When you took the resemblance out of the equation, which was admittedly kind of hard, he was actually pretty cute.

That didn't mean she was in love with herself! She didn't hate herself, but she also didn't get turned on by looking in a mirror. Who does that? Narcissists, maybe? "No," she said, "he's tried a bunch but he keeps failing. He came close one time, when my brothers and I helped him, but he didn't make it all the way."

"Did...um...what's his name? Your oldest brother. Did his sabotage him?"

Linka's brows furrowed in confusion. "Loki? No, he didn't do anything like that. Loni was almost done with the driving part of the test...then he saw a squirrel and drove after it...off the course...into the side of a building." She smile at the memory.

"Hm," Lincoln said, "me and my sisters helped Leni, but Lori sabotaged her." He put an irritated spin on the second to last word.

"Why?" Linka asked.

Lincoln sighed. "Jealousy. Lori didn't want to share the van and thought no one would ever want to hang out with her if she wasn't giving them rides."

Say what? Out loud: "Oh. That's...interesting. Does she get jealous a lot?"

"Not really," he said after collecting his thoughts. "She's bossy, though. That's her big thing. Miss queen of the hill telling everyone what to do."

He glanced at her at the same time she glanced at him, and they both looked hurriedly away. Talking to him was getting easier much quicker than she thought it would.

"Loki is _kind_ of the same," Linka allowed, "but really not. Like I said, he mainly bullies everyone. Not like mean...well, sometimes mean..but mostly playing around. If anyone's the boss, it's _me._ "

In her periphery, Lincoln turned to her. "You?"

"Me," Linka said. "Why? Don't think I can be?"

"No, no, it's not that, I just...I'm not, ya know, timid or anything, but no one listens to me around here. If I tried being the boss, they'd all laugh. I kind of assumed it was the same with you." The way he stammered was adorable.

 _Let's do him now!_

No! I mean...can at least get to know him before I have to decide? Sheesh, you're a ho and you need Jesus.

Realizing it was her turn to say something, she shrugged, "I'm not really the boss, it's just...I've always kind of been a den mother." Before she continued, she looked at Lincoln to see if he understood what that meant, and he nodded that he did. "Like...when I was a little girl I really liked...like...being a mommy to dolls and stuff, so I kind of started being a mom to my brothers." She laughed because it was kind of weird when you put it like that. Most little girls display maternal instincts to stuffed animals and baby dolls (which is why the latter even exist). "I guess I just...watched _my_ mom and wanted to be like her. I'd be like "Loni, get your feet off the coffee table' and it kind of stuck."

Lincoln snorted. "Well I guess you'd _have_ to start early. It's too late for me."

"Well...boys and girls are different," Linka pointed out. "So maybe that has something to do with it. What's your relationship like with them?" She propped her elbow on her knee, rested her chin in her palm, and settled in to listen to what he had to say. It was only when she found herself caressing his cheek with her eyes that she realized she was looking directly at him like...a friend and not a boy she was thrown together with for the express purpose of sex.

He took a deep, thoughtful breath, and said, "Well, we're all really close. We have each other's backs, and-and-and help each other and stuff, but we _do_ fight."

"What siblings don't?" Linka asked.

"Exactly," he said gesturing with his hand. "One time I calculated the perfect spot to sit in the van, and...l-long story short we wound up in knock down, drag out fight over it."

Linka giggled because 1, that _totally_ sounded like something her brothers would do, and 2, because he was getting more animated as he relaxed. He was less stiff, not as tense. She felt a little more comfortable too. "My brothers do that, but they usually stop when I yell at them." She frowned slightly. "Sometimes they treat me like I'm made of glass or something. And they can be a _little_ overprotective. There was this boy I liked, and whenever we'd hang out in the living room, they'd all circle the couch like sharks to make sure _he doesn't try anything._ Hello, maybe I _want_ him to try something." When she realized that she said that out loud, her face burned and she looked away. Real smooth, Linka, way to sound like a thot.

Thankfully, Lincoln ignored it. "My sisters are overprotective in ways," he said, "like if I get a papercut, they'll act like I'm dying." He chuckled. "It gets old."

"Well, they worry about you," Linka said, and yes, she was speaking from experience. She worried about her brothers all the time, especially Lynn and Loni, Lynn because he was always playing sports and breaking stuff (wrists, ankles, you know, the usual) and Loni because with his...childlike nature...he could get hurt pretty easily.

"Same with your brothers," Lincoln said. "My little sister Lucy was...I guess you could say dating...this boy, and I was...I was honestly afraid he'd hurt her some way." He sucked his lips into his mouth in thought. "I guess I can be a little overprotective too."

That was sweet...and _really_ hot. For some strange reason.

He was overlooking _one_ teensy thing though. "Yeah, but there's only one of you and ten of my brothers. Nine, if you don't count Leon, since he's baby and doesn't do much. It's like, you know, sometimes I feel -"

"Outnumbered," Lincoln said, finishing her sentence.

"Exactly."

 _Her gets you on so many levels, Link. That's crazy hot. Let's do him now._

This time...Linka couldn't use the argument that she didn't know him, because the more she listened, the more she felt that she _did_ know him. It wasn't just the things he said, it was also the tone and cadence of his voice, the inflection of his words - they worked on her brain just as surely as his yummy boy-scented pheromones. Those things conveyed so much to her subconscious, chiefly among them familiarity. He didn't simply say _I know what you're going through in life,_ he also...it was in the way he spoke, okay? I'm flipping horny and scared and awkward and so nervous I'm literally shaking, leave me alone.

 _Let's do him, then!_

"I also, you know, feel kind of alone," he said. "I mean, being one boy among ten girls. We're all really close, like I said, but sometimes it's like I'm an outsider."

Linka was nodded before he was even done speaking. "I feel like that too. It's nothing my brothers do -"

"No," Lincoln agreed.

"It's just...they have this bond that I can never _really_ be apart of or something. Being the only girl, I'm always on the outside looking in."

Lincoln hummed. "Umhm. I mean...it doesn't mess me up or anything, I'm not depressed, I just feel a little excluded by my very gender. Curse of being a boy, I guess."

Ummm, boy, that's right, I almost forgot (kind of, not really, maybe). Linka glanced at his strong hands, his toned forearm, and then, finally, at his bulge. Her core tingled and she squirmed uncomfortably.

Alright...we've only talked for a couple minutes, but there are clear and obvious extenuating circumstances. I think…

I think I'm ready.

Mentally.

Kind of.

I'm nervous and stuff, but I'm pretty sure I know him enough that I'm okay with...you know. It's not like he's a total stranger, he's me. In a way. He strikes me as kind of...passive, though. It looks like I'm going to have to take the lead...again. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Unless it makes me look bad, but he's feeling the same unbearable pressure as me, so I don't think he'll mind.

Her heart thumped and her stomach crushed painfully.

Oh, wow. Lol, I'm so nervous.

How should she do it? Show subtle signs that she was interested? That's what she usually did and it never worked because, she assumed, most boys didn't want a girl with white hair and chipped teeth. With Lincoln, though, knowing how he thought (like me...mostly), she thought _maybe_ she should be more upfront.

Her heart thumped even harder and her stomach felt like it was being clawed from the inside by a thousand tiny razor fingers.

Could she be upfront about...that?

 _Do it, Link!_

O-Okay, I-I guess.

 _He wants it just as bad as you. Remember, you're both horny toads...and it's mating season~_

You're such a perv!

But I like the way you think ;)

"Speaking of curses," she said and glanced at him, flashing what she hoped was a naughty and knowing smirk when he looked at her in return, "you're...you're really...horny...like me?" Those words passed like kidney stones, and when they were out, she was so embarrassed she almost buried her face in her hands to hide.

Lincoln tensed up again and drew a reflexive intake of breath through his nose like she punched him in the stomach instead of asked a question. To be fair to him, it _was_ a really awkward thing to talk about. "W-W-W I, uh…" Linka cocked her head and watched him fumble, the corners of her mouth turning up in amusement. Seeing that he was more nervous even than her made her feel a little better. Think of it like this: He was like a cute little boy who needed motherly guidance~

Uhh...that was both hot and _not_ at the same time.

Don't do that again, Linka.

"Yes," Lincoln finally sighed like a man who was too tired to fight any longer. "I-I-I am."

Linka darted her eyes to his bulge, then to her hands. They were shaking. "I am too. A lot. And it's flipping annoying."

"Sometimes I can't even sleep," he said, a mournful edge in his voice.

"As soon as I get home from school…"

Lincoln shook his head. "I try to read a comic, or play a game…"

"And it's dirty thoughts about boys…"

"I want them to leave me alone…"

"But at the same time…"

"I really…"

"Like having…"

"Them…"

They both drew a deep breath and said, in unison, "It's hell." They glanced at one another, and for the first time their eyes met. It might be kind of a weird analogy, but to Linka, it felt almost like two puzzle pieces clicking together, and as she stared into his warm, limpid browns, she felt a stirring in her chest and a flutter in her stomach, like the faint kiss of butterfly wings. Linka had see her own eyes in the mirror a thousand times over the years, so she was confident that his were _different_. The same color, the same shape, but somehow indefinitely unique...warm, dancing with light, and beautiful...even though he looked so nervous she was worried he'd pop a blood vessel.

Something heavy and profound, like a ball of electricity, seemed to pass between them (or maybe Linka was being melodramatic), and she looked away, surprising herself with a giggle. Wow, that was kind of...intense. And nice. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth to kill her goofy grin - it felt crazy good, but probably made her look like a dork, or worse, a leering pervert. Technically, she _was_ both, but let's not tell the cute boy that.

Until it's too late~

"What, um...what kinds of things do you think about?" she asked, and pressed her knees together. Asking him that - and anticipating what he would say - was making her even wetter. I bet it's going to be the same things _I_ think about, she thought, and her heart skipped a beat. They were a lot alike, right? So maybe the same things got them going.

When Lincoln didn't speak, she looked at him - his face was beet red and he looked like a doe in the headlights. Awww, poor thing; she wanted to give him a big, reassuring hug and maybe boop his little cowlick (finally, I get to do it to someone else, muhahahahaha!).

Guess it's up to me to break the ice.

"I can tell you one of the things _I_ think about," she offered.

Lincoln shifted, and was his her imagination, or did his bulge _twitch?_ Wow, it _moves?_ "Uh, yeah, I guess, sure," he stumbled.

Okay. Good. I'll just...talk about my dirty thoughts...in front of a cute boy...and that's so awkward! Oh, my God. I know he wants it just as bad as me and all that, but still. "Um...well...one thing I like...or think I like is…" she trailed off. Which fantasy should she tell him? Not the one about the shower...or letting a bunch of boys 'explore' her. Those were _waaay_ to embarrassing and would really make her sound like a slut. Then, it came to her. "There's this boy named Jordan," she started haltingly, and Lincoln looked at her funny. For a second she thought she said something wrong, then it occurred to her that if she had a Boy Jordan and a Girl Jordan in her universe, it would stand to reason that he did too, only the boy here was the girl there and...you get the picture.

Maybe he liked his Girl Jordan and thought about her the way she thought about Boy Jordan. "I was thinking...it would be really, like," she giggled nervously. "Like...hot...if were were on a hike together, and…" her heart slammed so hard it echoed in her head and her throat was suddenly dry. She could see Lincoln staring expectantly at her from the corner of her eye, and if she could blush any brighter, she did. "And I...I lifted my shirt and...and showed him my pussy."

Lincoln's jaw dropped open, then snapped closed again.

"And then he...he started fingering me and kissing me." Being so blunt for some reason sent a quiver through her core. _I'm being openly dirty...alone...with a boy...on his bed…_

Lincoln shifted, and she looked at him. "There's a girl named Jordan," he said, "here. And a boy."

"Umhm. In my world too."

"And...I-I had the same thought about her. That she pulled her skirt up and s-showed me her...her pussy...and I started touching it and kissing her."

You know...she figured they might have some of the same fantasies...but hearing out loud that he wanted the _exact same thing_ as her was, like, the most erotic thing ever. "Do you ever, like, think about just...like...running your hands over a girl's body?"

Lincoln nodded. "All the time. Exploring her...touching everything. It's weird, but that-that really turns me on."

"It's not weird," Linka said. "I think of the same thing. Only letting a boy do that to _me._ And doing it to him too." Her eyes were drawn to his crotch again, and she imagined caressing it with her fingers while looking into his beautiful eyes. She looked at him, and he at her; their eyes met again, and a goofy grin crossed her lips like a fart slipping out. "I also think about kissing them all over."

"Me too," Lincoln said. "The taste of her skin...how warm and silky smooth it is, and what she'll sound like. You know, panting, like in porn."

Linka crossed her eyes. "Oh, my God, yes. The intimacy is _such_ a turn. Like when you cum…"

"You're showing the person you're with something...sacred."

Linka smiled and nodded. "Umhm. Like a sexy secret. The moment of orgasm is such, like, an intensely personal moment, and the thought of letting go in front of someone-"

"And watching the other person let go -"

She threw her head back and moaned deep in her throat. Her pussy throbbed with every staggering beat of her heart and her stomach roiled like hot water on a stove. She didn't know what it was like to burn alive in a house fire, but she couldn't help imagine it felt a little like this: She was hot from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes, so much that the backs of her hands were a light shade of red and chills wracked her frame.

 _Please, Link, can we…?_

Yes.

She chewed her bottom lip.

Yes, we can.

If I gathered the courage. She looked over at Lincoln's bulge at the same moment he looked at her lap. Linka's chest squeezed - she saw an opening, and she was going to take it. Turning her gaze to her feet and wincing at the anxious clawing in her midsection, she tucked her hair behind her ear and swallowed - her throat was dry and tacky, and the motion produced an audible click. "You can...you can touch my leg if you want."

She flicked her eyes to Lincoln, and he looked even redder than she felt as he stared at her bare knee. For a second she didn't think he'd do it, but then he reached one shaky hand out, hesitated, then laid it on her leg, his warm fingers grazing her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. A giggle burst from her throat and she looked away to hide her face. Get ahold of yourself, Linka, jeez.

"T-That's okay?" Lincoln asked. His hand rested half on her skirt and half on her thigh, light and firm, its heat flowing into her and making her heart race. Any faster and it'd make Usain Bolt look like a tortoise.

"Umhm," she said because she didn't think she could form words. She fisted her hands in the dip of her lap and moved them ever so slightly against her crotch because oh my God, a boy's touching me and I need friction stat.

Lincoln watched her profile as if for instruction, then brushed his hand down, his fingertips kissing her flesh and his palm molding to her like a glove to a hand. Her core tingled and her breath caught. He closed his hand over her knee and stroked it like a cat, rubbing slow, clumsy circles. "T-That still okay?" he asked.

"Y-Yes," she said, "it...it feels really good."

He let out a shuddery breath and moved his hand higher, getting just a little bolder. He halted when he reached the hem of her skirt like an immigrant at a fence. Her heart slammed and her body trembled in anticipation, every inch yearning, crying out to be touched too. "You can go higher," she half said/half panted. "I-I want you to."

Lincoln yanked away, leaving her leg cold and alone, and for a horrible moment she thought he was going to chicken out, but then he turned to face her, drawing one bent leg onto the bed. He pressed his left hand to the top of her thigh and stroked back and forth, from the top of her knee to her skirt hem, his skin scraping hers and sending goosebumps up and down her arms. Her heart dropped into her stomach when his fingers crept under her skirt - he was so close to her thing it was both scary and exhilarating. She looked at him, and their eyes locked. She felt that stirry/fluttery thing again, but also something else, a sort of magnetic pull...like she was being physically drawn to him by unseen hands.

He felt it too, and with dreamlike languor, lost in each other's eyes, they leaned into one another's lips, each meeting its mate with an electric spark. For a moment they breathed the same air and searched each other's eyes, then Lincoln flicked his tongue across her bottom lip, a male animal seeking a female's favor. Linka gave it willingly and completely, allowing him into her mouth and stroking his tongue unskillfully with her own. She fluttered her hand to his chest and laid it over his heart, the crazy way it beat against her palm exciting her even more than she already was; she deepened the kiss, prodding and curiously exploring every crevice of his mouth, reveling in his taste and the heat of his ragged breath. His fingers dug pleasantly into the soft flesh of her thigh as if to keep himself from being swept away, and she laid her other hand on the side of his face.

When they pulled apart, they were both panting and blushing fire truck red. They giggled like girls and broke eye contact to glance nervously at their laps. "I-I really liked that," Lincoln said.

"So did I," Linka replied.

He cupped her cheek in his hand and tilted her face up to his; he smiled warmly and tender light shone in his eyes. He leaned in, and Linka met him halfway.

The second kiss lasted much longer than the first.

* * *

In her room, Lisa crossed to her chair and sat; Levi closed the door behind him, came over, and leaned against the desk, his arms folding over his chest, his normally stoic face ashen and pinched slightly as if in worry. Lisa rolled her eyes and opened the top drawer. "You're being fallacious," she said as she rummaged through, pushing aside papers, office supplies, and a revolver.

"I'm apprehensive," he replied defensively. "My sister is in the next room with a boy. What do you want of me me?"

Package of rubber bands, cassette tape labeled _Symphony No. 40_ , a stationary pad headed _Overlook Hotel_ (that was an...intriguing vacation), a postcard from her friend Darcy's recent trip (MOONLIGHT BAY, CA)...hm, where are they, goddamn it? I know they're in here. "My brother is in the next room as well," she said absently and snaked her arm in, turning to Levi and plastering her tongue to her upper lip in concentration. "With a female, I might add. I, however, trust them both to conduct themselves magnanimously. You, on the other hand, are being a mollycoddler out of some misguided and vaguely misogynistic belief that your sister is a delicate flower who needs to be guarded like a bank vault."

He sighed. "No," he said in a strained, patronizing tone, "I am concerned for my sister's emotional and, yes, physical, wellbeing. You know as well as I do that females are more easily taken advantage of in situations such as this, and that they are quicker to develop intense feelings, whereas males, by their very biological make-up, tend to treat sex in a more cavalier fashion." His lips turned down in a sharp snear.

"I ought to be offended by your insinuating that Lincoln would _take advantage_ of Linka," Lisa said, "but knowing that you have an unresolved Oedipus complex in regards to Linka, I'll let it slide." She smirked at the barb.

Levi's eyes narrowed. "I do not have an Oedipus complex centered around my sister," he said tightly. "She's very important to me and when you care about someone, you worry about them. Your flippant attitude in regards to Lincoln leads me to suspect that you wouldn't know the first thing about how I feel."

Alright, that was uncalled for. "I care a great deal about my brother," Lisa said, her tone matching Levi's now. "Which is why I arranged this meeting in the first place. It does not benefit me in any way, shape, or form, but it does Lincoln." That wasn't exactly the truth, it _did_ benefit her in that she was able to see Levi in person, but she was currently offended, and wouldn't' give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was happy at that fact.

"And I came all this way for Linka," Levi said, "because even though I worry, I know that she does, in fact, need this, and the idea of her with Lincoln makes me far less uncomfortable than the thought of her with anyone else. I'm still not particularly _comfortable_ with it, though."

Closing her hand around a cellophane bag, Lisa grinned. Got'cha. She dragged it to the front of the drawer, reached in, and pulled out two lollipops. "Here," she said and handed one to Levi, "have a sucker."

Levi eyed her suspiciously, then took it and ripped the wrapper off. Lisa plopped hers into her mouth and sat back in her chair. Hm. Blue raspberry. She was fond of that flavor. "I understand your concerns," she said with a level of tenderness that she rarely showed, "I honestly do. You, and your brothers, must realize that even though you've, perhaps, put her on a pedestal, she's a human being, and like birds, human beings require freedom and space to _breathe._ "

Taking the sucker out of his mouth, Levi said, "We haven't put her on a pedestal -"

"You have," Lisa pressed. "It's natural in a familial context to see one's parental figures as larger than life, above reproach, beyond, as it were, base human instincts. Take your grandmother for instance. Can you picture her on all fours being rutted by your grandfather like a dog?"

Levi sputtered. "C-Christ, no!"

"Precisely. To you, she's your sweet old granny, but the law of averages says she's performed oral sex on at least one man…"

A look of disgust flickered across Levi's face. "You're vulgar," he spat.

Lisa chuckled. "Perhaps I am. My point is that you and your brothers look at Linka in much the same way."

"Because we don't relish the thought of her fillating someone?"

"No," she said patiently, "because you treat her as something other than what she is: A young woman. A young woman currently in the bloom of adolescence. Your mother, to you, is mom. Grandma is grandma. Linka is..Linka."

Sighing, Levi said, "My brothers and I perfectly well understand that Linka is a human being and not some..d-deity or something. We don't treat her as though she's above us - we love and worry about her. She's fairly assertive and not quite as passive as Lincoln, however she is a girl, and girls, whether one cares to admit it, are physically weaker than boys, on average, and tend to feel more deeply. This increases the likelihood of being hurt, used, taken advantage of, or molested...sexually or otherwise. That, then, is why we worry about her. We do not coddle her, we do not deny her freedom, and we give her space. You make it sound as though we guard her night and day with barbed wire and firearms."

Taking the sucker out, Lisa twirled it thoughtfully in her fingers. "No, but you _are_ overprotective."

"We are not," Levi challenged, "we don't make her decisions for her. She's perfectly capable of doing so on her own."

Lisa pointed the sucker at him. "Exactly. Whatever occurs in that room will be of Linka's own free will. You know that Lincoln would never force himself on her. If she wants it to stop at any point, it will stop. I am confident that the same can be said of Linka. No matter how much she may want it to continue, if Lincoln says no, she will stop. They are not carbon copies of one another, but they are alike where it really counts: They are both kind, caring, and considerate. You're not wrong about girls being taken advantage of, but Lincoln isn't like that, and you know it."

Levi opened his mouth to protest, but fell silent and jammed his sucker back in as if to buy himself time to think. He was _clearly_ coming up with every excuse he could to dislike what was happening down the hall - he loved Linka and worried after her. Lisa understood that and respected it (it was a quite admirable quality...attractive, even), but she was certain that deep down, he knew she was right, at least about Lincoln and Linka. They were as compatible as two people can be (as were she and Levi), and their time together would be one of mutual trust, understanding, and respect. Levi was aware of that - he was just too goddamn stubborn to admit it, and to admit that while Linka might be something of a pseudo motherly figure to her brothers, his feelings, and perhaps his brothers', were more than glancingly paternal. _No one will ever be good enough for my little girl._

He took the sucker out with a plop and sighed. "I don't think he is," he allowed, "but Linka is precious to me and I'll continue to worry no matter _how_ much you harangue."

Lisa chuckled. "Fine. Would you feel better if we observed?" she asked and nodded to the computer.

Poor Levi's face went completely white and his eyes widened. "N-N-N-No," he stammered, "I-I'd rather n-not."

"Very well," Lisa grinned. He was cute when he was mortified. "How're your brothers?"

"Insufferable," he said, "as always."

Lisa hummed her sympathy. "Not as intolerable as my sisters. Last week Lori and Leni stopped speaking because they both bought the same goddamn sweater." She chuckled humorlessly.

"The constant roughhousing is killing me," Levi moaned and threw his head back. "I swear to God, it sounds like a stampede of elephants. The hallway is a Mad Maxian wasteland; to use the bathroom, I have to fight my way through marauders in assless leather chaps."

Lisa laughed richly. "It can't be worse than the incessant bickering. And whining. And bellyaching. God above, it's like having icepicks shoved into your ears."

Relaxing a little, Levi crossed his arms and put his sucker into his mouth. "Le me ask you question," he said around it. "How often do you play family physician?"

"I conduct physicals at routine intervals," she shrugged, "outside of that...not very often. Last week Lynn sprained her ankle and before that Leni, God bless her, walked into a door frame and gave herself a bloody nose."

Levi snorted. "Cute. For me it's every single day. Someone is _always_ hurting themselves or someone else. Cuts. Sprains. Abrasions. The list goes on. Yesterday, Lynn knocked Luke's front teeth out playing an unsanctioned game of hockey in the hallway, and I spent the _entire_ afternoon working on him. The day before that, Lars got tired of Loki's constant bullying and charged at him, head down like the genius he is. Loki stepped aside and Lars rammed _right_ into the wall, cracked the plaster and gave himself a concussion too."

"Your brothers are barbarians."

"They're _boys,"_ he corrected, "which, admittedly, is a half step up. Do you see now why I worry about Linka? My brothers are tender and loving with her, but if their behavior is any indication, it won't be long before a boy _isn't."_

Lisa shrugged. "I see your point. You can't hold onto her forever and you can't be her bodyguard for the rest of her life."

"I know that," Levi sighed, "but as long as I can do something to ensure she's okay, I will." He stuck the sucker back into his mouth and rolled the stick from one corner of his lips to the other.

"That's very sweet," Lisa said, then frowned. "Maybe you're right and I - and my sisters - don't concern ourselves enough with Lincoln. We do worry, of course, and we are somewhat protective, but we tend to let him go."

Across from her, Levi bobbed his head from side to side in thought. "The gender dynamics are different, therefore you and your sisters express your feelings differently. I will admit that I, and my brothers, _may_ go a little overboard at times. Linka is not made of glass and she's shown again and again that she can handle having ten brothers - God, if one can handle _that,_ they can handle _anything_. It's natural to worry about your loved ones."

One of the many differences Lisa had been able to detect between her and Levi was that he was more sentimental than she - not overly much, just enough that there was a marked contrast. Also, strangely enough, more conservative and conventional. Normally, she found bathos tiresome and irritating, but in him, she appreciated it. There were times when she wondered, despite evidence to the contrary, if, perhaps, the versions of people in one universe weren't the mythic _other half_ to ones in the other. She thought often of Plato's _The Symposium_ , in which it is written that humans were born with two heads, four arms, four legs, and two faces, then split in half by the god Zeus, who feared their power; from that point on, the were doomed to spend their lives searching for their other half.

Complete garbage, of course, like all religious myth, but she saw in Levi something missing from herself, and she imagined he saw the same in her. Of all the universes they had studied at any length, theirs were the most alike, which lead her to believe that maybe certain realities were _sister-verses_ , not the same but so closely related that the resemblance was stark. Each universe probably had at least one, maybe more.

Or perhaps there were only two as alike as these.

Adam and Eve.

Two of each animal.

Beings cleaved by a frightened god.

Nonsense...but at the heart of every swirling vortex of bullshit, there's always a nugget of truth, like thorny briers growing rampant around a delicate flower you'd have to dig long and hard to find. Call it Lisa's Law.

"Yes," she said now, "it is. Linka's a smart girl. Her thinking, like Lincoln's, has been clouded recently, but _hopefully_ today will clear that up." She glanced longingly at her computer screen - she wanted to access the camera in Lincoln's room and check on their progress but, and maybe it was Levi's presence affecting her, she felt that maybe that wouldn't be entirely ethical.

Levi sighed. "I certainly hope."

"Isn't it strange how our sexual impulses work?" Lisa asked. "They supersede almost everything else and turn rational, thinking people into raving maniacs." She _humphed._ "I understand the biological necessity, of course, but...it's mind-boggling how _strong_ our instincts are in that regard. As far as I can tell, the only ones stronger are parental instincts and the will to live." She put the sucker in her mouth. "At least with animals, it comes and goes, but with human beings it's persistent."

"You have to wonder how much of it is purely biological and how much of it is us manufacturing those urges. After all, we're among the only animals who with enough brain power to sit there and _dwell_ on the matter."

Hm. "True," she said. "Humans are strange and complex creatures. Except for my sisters. They're all so simple a Caveman can do it."

Levi chuckled. "Your sisters?"

"Yes," she confirmed, "you should see some of the boys Luna's dated. They _look_ like cavemen. Beards, sloped brows, knuckles dragging across the floor."

"I doubt they're _that_ bad," Levi said.

"Close enough. Is Luke still seeing that girl...what was her name? The one with the bright pink hair and nose rings"

Levi rolled his eyes in disgust. "Holly. No, thankfully they broke up. I believe she cheated on him. Lately he's been talking about someone named Sarah or Sondra or something. Is Lori still with Bobby?"

"Yes, she is."

"Hm. I guess I was wrong about them not making it past the six week mark."

Lisa smiled. "You're wrong quite often."

"Far less than you'd imagine," he said sportingly, "but far more than I would like. Speaking of, when was your last lab explosion?" The corner of his mouth turned up in a cocky grin as he spoke. Owing to his more careful approach, he did not blow himself up very often, whereas Lisa was constantly reducing her lab and her face to blackened smoot.

The sucker was smaller now, more brittle. She crunched it between her teeth and dropped the stick onto the desk. "I'll have you know it's been nearly a week," she said with a ludic arch of the brows.

"That long?" he asked patronizingly.

Lisa nodded. "That long."

"Well, in that case," he said and stood up straight, "you deserve one of these." He reached into the pocket of his lab coat, took something out, then came forward - Lisa's heart skipped a beat and for some reason she had the strange and exciting notion that he was going to kiss her. Instead, he pressed his thumb to her forehead, making her wince, then stepped back and smugly crossed his arms.

She slid her glasses down the bridge of her nose and rolled her eyes up. "A gold star," she said around a grin.

"Yes," Levi said, "a gold star."

She started to peel it off, but the bizarre compulsion to keep it right where it was overcame her, and she left it. "Do you carry these everywhere you go?"

"I do, in fact," he said, "I have to reward the simpletons when they display proper behavior. Positive reinforcement."

Lisa smiled. "You're a jerk," she said, 'but I like you anyway."


	4. Joining of Hearts

Lincoln and Linka knelt facing each other in the middle of Lincoln's bed, Linka's hands resting on her knees and her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath, and Lincoln drinking her in with his eyes, from her beautiful blush to the bare flesh of her knees poking out from under the hem of her skirt. Their resemblance, which bothered him just a few short minutes ago, was completely forgotten; she was beautiful, and when she ducked her head and giggled nervously, sweeping her hair behind her ear, it was like sweet, ethereal music. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Lincoln said, his voice quavering, "what?" He didn't know how long they kissed, savoring the taste of each other's mouths and letting their hands wander over one another's bodies, but it was certainly enough to intoxicate them - the room seemed to spin and her smell was everywhere, fresh and faint like summer rain. She smiled sheepishly at her lap, looked up at him with those big, light-filled brown eyes, and coquettishly bit her lower lip.

The urge to reach out and softly caress her face came over him, but he stayed his hand.

"Can...can you take your shirt off?"

She hesitated as she spoke, and her eyes darted diffidently away, her lips puckering in a sly, girlish smile. _Omg,_ it said, _I can't believe I asked him that._ Maybe he was weird, but there was something satisfying about it, and _really_ attractive. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated himself, suddenly self-conscious about his body in a way he'd never been before. It was funny: In the past, he had no reservations about taking his his shirt off in front of a girl, even one he liked. Now, though, he had _all_ the reservations.

Perhaps sensing this, Linka turned her eyes to him. They were warm, tender, and inlaid with familiar need. "Please?" she asked. "I-I wanna see you." She glanced away then back. "I-I'll take mine off too."

His gaze went to the buttons along the front of her blouse, then to the gentle swell of her breasts. Her offer, combined with what she said, gave the confidence he needed. Looking down at the bed, he slipped one arm out, then the other, then pulled it over his head and tossed it away. Linka's eyes widened and she sucked a sharp breath, the corners of her lips turning up in an appreciative smile. She reached for him, then stopped. "Can I t-touch you?" she asked.

"Yeah," Lincoln saiid. He tried to think of something to add so that it didn't sound so curt, but his brain couldn't come up with a single thing.

Linka scooted closer, a fierce look of determination crossing her face as she lifted her shaky palms and slowly laid them flat on his chest, biting off a giggle. Her touch was soft, warm, and delicate, like lace, and Lincoln's heartbeat sped up. She brushed her teeth across her bottom lip then moved her hands over him in wide, lazy circle, her slender fingers exploring his flesh and her palms molding to his ridges and contours, making his heart burst and his erection jerk. Her lips parted in a big, open mouth smile and her eyes shimmered with delight. She looked like a girl finally and happily indulging a long-held fantasy.

 _Wow...she's excited...for you._

She'd wanted, and needed, this for so long, just like him, and _he_ was the one giving it to her, the one satisfying her desire, the one pleasing her and making her face red, the reason her heart pounded sickly when he touched her chest during their kiss, the reason that even now she trembled like a small, excited animal and panted for air.

That thought made him dizzy.

Licking his lips, he gazed at her face as the burning sensation of her touch filled him, arching his back slightly to give her better access. He failed to notice that his boner pushed out as well, but Linka didn't; her eyes flicked to it and her breath caught. She sucked her bottom lip in and gilded her hands over his pecs, leaning closer as if for easier examination. She glanced up again, then kneaded him with her fingers like a mischievous kitten, laughing airly at the gasp that tore from his throat. "Wow," she breathed, "this is really hot."

"Yeah," he said, "i-it is."

She ran her hands down his stomach, pressing more firmly, her breathing becoming ragged as her arousal swelled. She stared intently at his chest…leaned forward until her lips touched him and placed a slow, sizzling kiss above his right nipple. He tensed, and she pulled away, looking up into his eyes with something like fear. "I-I'm sorry, I-I should have asked."

"No," he said, "it's fine. It just...it felt really good."

"Oh," she said, then grinned. "Want me to do it again?"

Lincoln nodded.

"Good," she said. She leaned forward and kissed him again, her lips burning and soft like velvet fire. Lincoln drew a keen breath and slipped his hand into her warm hair as she trailed gentle kisses across his flesh; in turn, she laid her hands on the tops of his legs and rubbed her fingertips against the rough fabric of his jeans. Lincoln closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and grazed her scalp, focusing entirely on this moment - on the feeling of her lips touching his body, on her saliva blistering his skin, on the clean, sweet smell of her shampoo and on the way she panted and trembled in excitement. She moved from the center of his chest to the right, her kisses becoming quicker, briefer, the faint and fleeting touch of downy linens. He bent his head and kissed her hair, reveling in her scent and letting it work on him like an aphrodisiac. His dick ached painfully, crying out to be sunk slowly into the girl before it, but despite the heady lust crashing against him like a pounding Category 5 storm surge, he wanted to take his time, to fully and thoroughly appreciate her body and the things they did together.

Pulling away, she looked at him with hazy, lovedrunk eyes, her smile one of disbelief and satiation. "D-Do you wanna touch me now?" she asked.

Lincoln's head bobbed up and down, and she laughed. "Okay," she said, and fluttered her hands to the top button of her blouse. They shook as she undid it, and Lincoln swallowed thickly. She watched her hands as if to make sure they did the task her brain demanded of them; she fumbled on the second one and giggled. "I'm kind of nervous," she said. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he said, "I'm really nervous too."

The second one came free, and he caught a teasing flash of white against creamy smooth skin. She undid the third, then the fourth, her hair sweeping across her face; she tucked it back behind her ear and stole a hurried glance at him. "Sorry," she said. She undid the final one, took a deep, steadying breath, and looked up and into his eyes as she slipped it over one shoulder, then the other. Her bra was plain white with a thin, lacy fringe, and her skin was supple, its paleness bespeaking purity. She didn't have much in the way of hips, but there was enough of a curve for you to rest your hands on, and Lincoln wanted to cup them so bad he looked like that guy from the meme, the one trying not to fart next to a pretty girl and _really_ straining to keep it in. "I'm kind of scrawny," she said shyly. "And pasty. And not pretty."

"Yes you are," Lincoln said quickly, then realized with a rush of horror that it sounded like he was agreeing with her. "I mean...you're beautiful."

A slow, happy smile spread across her face and she ducked her head as if to hide it. "T-Thanks," she said, "I don't think so."

"I do," Lincoln said. He gave into his urges, raised his hand, and held her cheek in his palm. She blinked and met his eyes - he wasn't experienced enough to know exactly what he saw in them, but they made his sour stir nonetheless. "You're really beautiful, Linka," he said, her name slipping ou unintentionally but feeling right and good on his lips. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds in the sun and her radiant smile made Lincoln's heart skip.

"Thank you," she whispered. "You're really beautiful too." He didn't realize that their faces were drawing closer together until the tip of his nose brushed hers - their gazes held fast, and when she exhaled, he inhaled, breathing her in, tasting her, relishing her. She bit her bottom lip, then they kissed, slow and sweet, their tongues dancing in a leisurely and unhurried waltz, Lincoln taking her face in his hands and Linka reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra, her fingers fumbling as he kissed her deeper, made love to her mouth with his.

He only noticed what she was doing when he pulled back, and the straps sagged down her bare arms. She pressed it to her chest and stared trepidatiously into his eyes. "They're not very big," she said self-consciously.

"They don't need to be," he said earnestly and caressed her cheek. She smiled, flicked her eyes down, and let her hand flutter away, pulling one arm out, then the other, and dropping the bra to the bed. Lincoln's heart staggered in his chest and his dick howled like a wolf at the moon: Her breasts were small but full, her flesh like ecru and her areolas a light, blushing pink. Her nipples were erect, and visible goosebumps raked her skin. It might be cliche to compare a girl's breasts to flowers - he didn't know - but as he gaped at them, that's what he was reminded of, delicate flowers beginning to open and bloom in the warm light of the spring sun.

Between his legs, his dick tried to wrench away from his body, and he could feel it starting to leak into his underwear.

She looked worriedly into his eyes. "Do you like them?"

Her eyes were pooled with anxiety, and Lincoln couldn't understand why. She was beautiful from head to toe; didn't she see that? "I love them," he said. He stroked his hands down the sides of her velvety throat and over her shoulders, swallowing when she tilted her head back and sighed deep in the back of her throat - giving herself utterly and willingly to his touch. He pressed his palms flat against her shoulders and ran them slowly along the ridge of her collarbone, then over her quivering breasts, both of them gasping: They were warm and soft in his hands, and her heart slammed unsteadily in the cup of his palm. She twisted slowly from side to side, squirming against him and humming her approval.

He moved his hands in a wide circle much as she had done to him, her nipples scraping against his palms and his fingertips massaging her skin. "That feels really good," she panted.

"You feel really good," he croaked.

"You can be a little rough," she said, "I like to pinch them."

He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and gently tugged, searching her face for cues. She sucked her bottom lip in and moaned when he did it again, harder this time. "Ummm, like that," she breathed, her heart pounding faster. Lincoln licked his lips - he wanted to kiss her neck and her shoulder, but he didn't want to stop focusing on her nipples since playing with them was making her feel so good. Digging his fingers into her, he kneaded with the heels of her palms, and she let out a sharp gasp. Her head flopped forward, and Lincoln sputtered at the animal hunger he saw in her eyes. She grabbed his face in her hands and fused their lips, her tongue ficking out and swiring crazily around his. He let go of her breasts, grabbed her hips, and pulled her body tight against his, his bulge prodding between her legs and making both of them shudder. She tilted her head to one side and jammed her tongue as deep as it would go; Lincoln wrapped his lips around it and pulled slowly back, not aware that his hand was creeping up her skirt until they brushed across the soft, warm, and squishy fullness of her pussy; her damp heat was incredible, and her panties were sodden with her arousal.

Holding her femininity in the palm of his hand, her began to rub back and forth, his middle finger sinking between her cotton clad folds and making her moan into his mouth. She let go of his face, slipped her hands between his legs, and started to knead his bulge, her French tipped fingers stroking and tracing his outline. Pleasure filled his skull in a blinding white flash, and he paused for a minute as it spread through his body like a brush fire. Linka smiled against his lips and playfully licked his tounge. He smiled back and dragged his finger through her crease; her eyes crossed cutely and she moaned, a shudder racing through her lithe frame. She giggled and skipped her fingers over his shaft, her thumb brushing the head. "Two can play at _that_ game, mister," she said.

Lincoln smirked. "Yeah? I can get _pretty_ competitive." He pressed the heel of his hand firmly against her and moved his hand _slowly_ over her sex; her eyes rolled back into her head and she gave his erection a tender squeeze.

" _I_ have ten brothers," she said when she got ahold of herself. "Nothing makes you as competitive as _that_."

Oh? "That sounds like a challenge."

She cocked her brow. "It _is_."

"Okay," he grinned. He pulled his hand away, found the waistband of her panties, and slipped in, the soft touch of her hot, silky skin against his palm sending his heart careening like a train off the rails. Linka's eyes widened slightly in surprise, then lidded when he cupped her and pried her sticky lips apart with his middle finger. She ghosted her fingers to his belt buckle and worried at it for a moment, pulling and tugging, before getting it.

Taking the tab of the zipper between her thumb and forefinger, she pulled it down, then reached in, her nails scratching his mound as her hand dipped into his briefs. When her fingers closed around his rod, his entire body tingled pleasantly, and Linka's pupils dilated, the corners of her mouth turning sharply up. He'd touched his dick a million times in the past, but never had his own hand been this soft, this warm, this gentle. "Wow," she drew, and squeezed inquisitively. "You have no idea how much this turns me on."

Lincoln caressed his finger between her lips, her burning fluids seering his skin. "I think I might have _some_ idea," he said archly.

She drew a hitching breath and bowed her head, her chest heaving. "T-That turns me on a lot too," she said. "Like...I'm really close."

The way she leaked onto his hand testified to that. "So am I," he said. As if suddenly remembering that she was gripping him, Linka gave a firm stroke along his shaft, her fingers smearing his precum across his tightening skin. Her brow crinkled in confusion, and she tilted her head to one side. "You're wet like me. I didn't know boys did that."

"Yeah," he said, "when we're, uh, _really_ turned on."

Linka smiled prettily. "I really turn you on?"

Lincoln nodded. "A lot." For some reason that he couldn't even begin to fathom, simply telling her that felt tremendously good.

"You turn me on too," she said and bobbed her hand down to his base. "If there's a special way you like or anything, tell me," she said. "I really like playing with my clit. It drives me up the _wall_."

Clit, clit, clit - Lincoln had heard the term and knew roundabout what it was (a girl's pleasure button, he'd read) but he didn't know where exactly it was. He felt a rush of shame, but Linka's warm smile disarmed him. "Where, uh, where _is_ it?"

"I'll show you," she said. She snaked her free hand under her skirt, laid it on the back of his, and guided him up, staring into his eyes with sly smile as she did it.; his fingers brushed her satiny lips and he swallowed hard, his dick pulsing in her hand and leaking crazily. When his middle finger touched something like a nub, she let go. "There. It feels _crazy_ good when you rub it."

He skimmed his finger tentatively over it, and Linka trembled, her smile widening. "Like that," she said. She wrapped her fingers tightly around him and moved up his shaft with agonizing deliberation. He pressed his finger to her clit and rubbed it in a lazy circular motion, watching her face for direction and grinning at the way she panted. "You can go faster," she said and stroked to his head.

Lincoln gradually increased his speed, focusing on her soft sighs and the way her hips rolled back and forth rather than on the wet friction as she worked dick - if he focused on _that,_ he'd blow his load all over her hand and probably disappoint her. He didn't want to disappoint Linka; he wanted her first time to be perfect.

"That feels so good, Lincoln," she moaned, her forehead coming to rest against his. He went faster, the pad of his finger swirling against her like a cyclone. Her mouth dropped open and she grinded slowly against him, her nostrils flaring as she fought for air. The pace of her hand slacked until she was simply holding him, clinging desperately to it like a woman to a root on a steep hillside. Lincoln didn't mind because if she kept up, he'd have nutted anyway. Her hot breath broke across his lips and filled his nose, her narrow, slitted eyes hazy with passion. "Yes," she panted, "like that, like that, like that…"

She was wetter now, hotter, her arms snaking around his neck and holding on for dear life as her hips glided back and forth across his hand. He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and went faster. "Oh, oh, oh, ohhh…" the last word turned into an inarticulate half gasp/half moan as her little body started to shake with her climax. She bowed her head and Lincoln buried his nose in her fragrant hair; she panted, sputtered, and quivered like a pressure cooker getting ready to blow. "Ooooh, my _God,_ " she wavered, and her thrusts began to slow; his hand was drenched and his dick ached in sympathy, his heart thumping the same apocalyptic tempo as hers. She held him tight, grunts, hums, and pants rising from her trembling lips. When she pulled herself back, wild strands of white hair veiled her blushing face, her dark eyes glinting like starry skies. She tried to speak, but her entire body pinched and her words cut off in a giggle when an aftershock raced through her. Lincoln had ever seen a girl more beautiful, and was certain that he never would again.

"That was _wow,_ " she said, her voice lifting on the last word.

Lincoln took his hand from between her legs and circled his arms around her hips. "You're wow," he said. It sounded lame to his own ears, but it made Linka's face light up, and that was all that mattered.

"You're pretty wow yourself," she grinned, "you do that a _lot_ better than I do. Is this your first time?"

"Yeah," he admitted, "I've never done that before."

"You could have fooled me, you're _really_ good."

Lincoln smiled broadly. Being complimented by Linka felt really nice. "You're pretty good too," he said.

"I kind of slacked off," she said, "I'm sorry. You just made me feel _so_ good." She rocked back on her knees and flicked her eyes to his dick: It rested against the waistband of his briefs and pointed at her crotch like a possessive finger. Her eyes twinkled with an elfin light and she brushed her fingers across the tip, making it shiver. "It moves," she giggled.

"I can make it move on its own," Lincoln said.

"Really?" she asked incredulously and moved her hair out of her face. "Do it."

Lincoln clenched, and his dick jerked. Linka laughed. "Wow, that's so strange," she said, then, "should we...take the rest of our clothes off?"

She asked the question easily, comfortably, and Lincoln nodded. "Yeah. Sure."

"Okay," she grinned. She slipped her hands under her skirt and wiggled her hips as she pulled her panties down, one eye squinting. "They're kind of stuck."

Lincoln sat back on his butt, yanked his jeans to his knees, then arched his back and brushed his underwear down after, his eyes never leaving Linka as she slipped her underwear over her ankles and tossed them aside - they were white, and he imagined they were warm with her heat and dank with her scent. She reached behind her back, unzipped the skirt, and hooked her thumbs into it, pushing it slowly down her legs. Lincoln watched with bated breath, and Linka glanced up at him, a smile touching her lips. "I didn't watch _you_ get undressed, mister," she teased.

"Sorry," Lincoln said and covered his eyes...then watched through his fingers, his gaze sweeping from her pert breasts down the plain of her stomach to the Y-shaped juncture of her thighs.

"You're peeking," she said in a singsong voice.

"Can you blame me?" he asked. His eyes darted from hers to her chest then to her center; all he could see of her core was the very top of her slit, the surrounding skin swollen and a lovely shade of pink.

She looked at her erection and grinned devilishly. "I guess I can't." She pulled one leg out of the skirt, then then other; she was entirely naked now, and as she crawled over, her hair hanging in her face and her eyes shining with sin, Lincoln gulped; this was really going to happen...he was going to have sex with the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

Inside _and_ out.

When she reached his hip, she curled up next to him and wrapped her fingers around his length, moving it exploratorily from side to side and examining it with girlish curiosity. "Do you watch porn?" she asked.

Lincoln blinked. "Well...sometimes."

"I do," she said and grinned, "I've seen penises before, but they're even more beautiful in person."

That threw him for a loop. "Uh..thanks?"

She giggled and brushed her fingers lightly up, then firmly down; a shivery breath burst from Lincoln's throat and he squirmed against the bed. He reached out and slipped his fingers into her hair, and she glanced up at him. "It's really warm and soft. I mean the skin." She threw up her free hand and laughed nervously. "Not that I'm calling you soft. You're _really_ hard. And yummy."

He stroked his fingers through her hair and she looked up at him, their eyes meeting; Lincoln felt the same stirring from earlier, like a warm spring breeze through supple green leaves. The tiny smile on her lips told him that she probably felt it too. "Well, you _made_ me this hard."

"I guess," she laughed and stroked up, then down, her thumb brushing the ridge underneath his head, "I didn't think I had it in me."

That was...what, the second, third time she'd said something like that? "Why not?" he asked and grazed his nails affectionately over her scalp.

She shrugged and looked at his dick, her hand moving faster.

"Linka?"

"I just...I don't think I'm very pretty and, you know...no boy's ever really been interested in me." She pressed a wet kiss to his thigh and squeezed his shaft; a bolt of pleasure shot into the center of his stomach and his eyelids fluttered. She shifted onto her elbow and kissed higher, her lips lingering and her nose inhaling the smell of his skin.

"I think you're beautiful," he said. "Everyone's probably too afraid to ask you out because you're so hot."

She laughed and kissed the inside of his thigh, so close to his dick now that he could feel errant strands of her hair tickling him. "I doubt that," she said, "but I don't mind." She rested the side of her head on his leg and brought his dick to her lips, her big, inquiring eyes caressing the tip. "Because I _really_ like _you_."

His heart burst against his chest and his stomach clinched, but in a good way. "I like you too," he said.

"Good," she said, her breath hot against his dick, "that makes me crazy happy." She grinned then swiped her tongue across his head; his hips jerked and a moaning _nngh_ trembed from his throat. Linka laughed and looked at it cross eyed. "Did that feel good?" she asked it. It pulsed in her hand by way of response. "It tasted good." She did it again, curling her tongue around it and scraping it with her upper lip. Toe curling sensation filled Lincoln's body; he dug his heels into the mattress and arched his back, his face crinkling. Linka scooted closer, took him fully into her mouth, and moved her head down slowly, her hand squeezing his base and her hot spit coating him like molasses. When he poked the back of her throat, she jerked back, spat him out, and coughed. "Sorry," she said. "Girls never do that in porn."

He ran his fingers cherishingly through her hair and grinned. "That's fine." He rolled onto his side, laid his hand on Linka's shoulder, and pushed her gently back against the bed. "I wanna touch you some more anyway."

She grinded and wiggled into a comfortable position. "Okay. You won't hear any objections from _me_."

"Good," he said and pressed his palms to her breasts; they bounced and quivered under his touch, and she took a deep breath. He moved slowly down to her stomach, running his fingers over her soft flesh and exploring her body with boyish curiosity, his eyes going to the flower between her thighs, pink and moist as if with morning dew. He could _smell_ her excitement, and it made him shake with primal need. He brushed his hands over her hips and down the outsides of her legs, his fingers trailing her curves and dips. She was so soft, so warm, her face blushing hard and her eyes narrowed, lips puckered in bliss.

He laid one hand on the outside of her left leg and the other on the inside, his knuckles grazing her lips, then moved down its length, his thumbs scraping her knees, her calf, over the top of her sock and down to her foot. She took deep, panting breaths and bit her bottom lip. "That feels so good," she said, and the tremble in her voice did it.

He couldn't wait any longer. He needed to be inside of her, to look into her eyes and be one with her as his climax hit. Letting go, he crawled up between her knees; she watched him approach with sweet anticipation and slowly spread her legs, accepting him and granting him access to her deepest self. He planted his arms on either side of her head and stared down into her eyes as he brought his body to hers, her fevered lips slipping over his head and her damp heat enveloping him. She stared back, her heart racing, her stomach gurgling, her face open in an expression of profound significance. She held her hands to his chest and wiggled her hips, her center sliding wetly across across him.

Reaching down, she guided him to her opening, their eyes never wavering, then let go and put her hands on his hips. "Please don't be rough," she said, her voice anxious and pleading. Lincoln's heart twinged at her apprehension, and, putting all of his weight on one arm, he took the side of her face in his hand and brushed his thumb across the ridge of her cheekbone. "I won't, Linka," he said, and meant it, "I promise."

She smiled and nodded, her eyes filled with trust and love. "Okay."

Holding onto the bed with both hands, his eyes locked with Linka's and her hand caressing his face, he slid his hips forward, his tip prodding her tight entrance, then squeezing in. She bit her bottom lip and winced as if in pain. "Do you want me to stop?"

She shook her head. "No," she whispered.

He stared at her for a second, trying to decide if he should stop on his own, but her body beckoned, and he sank himself another inch; she was a pool of boiling liquid, and her muscles spasmed around him as if in panic at his intrusion; he sucked a pained breath through his teeth and bowed his head. Linka wrapped her legs around his hips and braced her socked heels against his butt as if to keep him from chickening out and withdrawing. Lincoln closed his eyes and thrusted slowly, giving her body time to adjust to him. Every instinct told him to slam deep into her, to fulfill the primal urges that been haunting him for months, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to ease in - he didn't want to her Linka, _couldn't_ hurt Linka.

The way her body molded around him, her walls licking him like tongues of flames, made it _really_ hard, though.

Deep breath. Deep breath. Push. He gained another inch, and Linka moaned, her body thrashing beneath him. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"It stings," she said through her teeth, "but don't stop."

He clutched the sheet in both hands and sank deeper, his breathing heavy, his heart crashing, his dick aching both for release and because her walls gripped him so tightly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stared up into his eyes - he saw in hers his own need, and she swallowed thickly as she made up her mind. "Do it," she said, "all the way."

"Are you sure?" he panted.

"Yes," she said and dug her heels into his butt, "no pain - "

"No gain," Lincoln grinned. "Your Lynn says that too?"

She rolled her eyes. "All the time."

He opened his mouth, but closed it again when sudden emotion overwhelmed him. "I don't wanna hurt you," he whispered.

"A girl's first time always hurts a little," she said, "then it's supposed to feel _super_ good." She smiled and stroked his face with the back of her hand. "I want you to make me feel good...and I want to make _you_ feel good." She pressed her forehead to his and rubbed the tips of their noses together like a playful kitten, and Lincoln kissed her lips.

"Okay," he said, "tell me to stop if it's too much."

"I will," she said, and her heels rolled against his butt.

"Are you crossing your toes?" he asked.

Grinning, she shook her head. "Nope. Not _me_."

Lincoln laughed and kissed her again. "Alright. I'll trust you on this."

"Good," she said, "because I trust _you_."

For a moment, he gazed into her eyes, a stupid grin plastered to his face and his heart swelling, then overfilling. He'd felt for girls before - Cristina, Ronnie Anne - but nothing as strong as this, and it scared him at the same time it excited him. He kissed the tip of her nose and drew back a little. "I'm gonna do it."

She nodded.

Rocking his hips gently, counting to three, he surged forward and filled her, their hips coming flush. She gasped loudly and dug her fingers into his arms, and he grimaced at the way her walls constricted around him, choking, strangling. Earlier he thought of her as a bubbling pool of fire, but she was so so much hotter now, so much wetter, her juices roiling like water on a stove and blistering his skin. He took a deep, uneven breath, pulled back, and did it again. "Oh, God," she moaned, her head tossing back and her smooth throat baring. He opened his mouth to ask her if she was okay, but found himself kissing her neck instead, his lips greedily sucking the salt from her skin. She purred and ran her fingers through his hair. "Keep going," she whispered. "It hurts but it really _really_ good too."

Peppering tender kisses up the curve of her throat and along her jawline, her taste filling his mouth, he rested his forearms on either side of her head and threaded his fingers through her hair, then pulled back and glided forward, the wet friction of his body against hers making him so dizzy he could barely keep his balance. Linka closed her eyes and pursed her lips, a look of bliss settling over her features. Lincoln stared fixedly at her as he went faster, his thumbs rubbing her face and his heart slamming. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, he bent forward and kissed her, their tongues grappling for dominance.

He felt his clmax approaching swiftly and pulled away, his body freezing. "What?" she asked in breathless worry.

"I'm gonna cum," he said and bowed his head, his mind racing to come up with something, anything to stave off his orgasm.

Linka furrowed her brows. "Isn't that the point?"

"I don't want this to end."

"Me either," she said and touched his face, "but I _really_ want you to cum in me."

Lincoln blinked and his dick twitched against her walls. "A-Are you sure?" he asked. He wanted her to enjoy it, and so far they'd hadn't had much _actual_ sex.

Reading his mind, she nodded. "I'm _very_ close." She kissed the tip of his nose and giggled when he winced. "Let yourself go."

"Alright," he said.

"Just one thing," she said.

Lincoln started to ask what, but then he realized she probably wanted the same thing that he did. "Look in your eyes?"

She nodded and trailed her index finger along his jaw. "Look in my eyes."

"I was going to," he grinned.

"Good," she said.

"Good," he repeated, and kissed her.

Pushing himself slightly up and massaging gentle circles in her scalp, he pulled back to almost the head and thrusted, the head striking the opening of her womb. Her eyes crossed and a burst of air left her lips. He did it again, moving with tender slowness, sinking as deep into her as he could go. She cupped the back of his neck in her hand and locked their eyes, her cheeks burning. He pulled back and slammed forward, gaining speed as her body loosened and no longer fought but moved in time with his. He stared into her upturned face and his orgasm welled deep inside like a geyser gathering pressure. In that moment, they were one flesh, one heart, and one mind, their mutual end coming fast and hard and their bodies working in perfect harmony, his expanding, hers contracting.

Looking deep into each other's eyes, both beginning to come undone, they spoke at the same time, their voices low, breathy whispers, poignant devotionals in the church of hearts. "I love you."

As soon as the words left their mouths, the end came: Lincoln kept his promise and gazed into Linka's eyes as his rod swelled in her and released in a heady, heart-stopping rush, a grunt falling from his lips. Linka's eyes widened and she cried out as his hot, sticky seed flooded her passage and filled her waiting well. The world went gray at the edges as dazzling white passion exploded in the center of her skull and spread through her entire being like divine fire. Her toes curled against her socks and her nails bit roughly into Lincoln's arms as every cell, every nerve ending, every inch of her body burned in righteous heat. She flopped her head back and threw her hips against his, sheathing him completely as he pumped another load into her; it splashed through her like lava, puddling in her core and making her tremble. Lincoln bowed his head and trusted again, his shaky arms giving out and spilling him on top of her, his face burying in the crook of her neck.

She wrapped her arms around him and clung tight as aftershocks raced through their bodies, beginning in one and ending in the other; her hips rhymically rose and fell between him and the bed - she wanted every last drop of him inside of her, wanted to feel his comforting heat in her stomach long after they were inevitably forced to part. When he had nothing left to give, she fell still and simply held him, the afterglow of her orgasm feeling over her like a warm blanket. She undug her heels from his butt and wound her legs around his, her toes trailing up and down and her knees quivering. Lincoln shook against her, his breath hot on her skin, then his lips as he kissed her neck slowly, lovingly.

"Wow," he said, his voice muffled, then nuzzled against her.

"Me _too_ ," she said and hugged him dearly, his shape and warmth feeling so good and right in her arms. "That was _so_ much better than I dreamed."

Lincoln pushed himself up and tried to speak, but shuddered instead. "Umhm," she said, "I feel the same way." His elbow started to give out, so he gave up and laid on his side. Linka rolled over to face him, and he draped one arm over her hip, pulling her against him.

"Like you're about to pass out?" he asked.

"Exactly," she said, snuggled up, and kissed his nose.

He winced. "Did it...stop hurting?" he asked.

"Umhm," she nodded, "then it started feeling _crazy_ good." She brushed her toes up his calf and giggled when he shivered. "How did it feel for you?"

"Like my soul come out," he said, then, "and like I fell in love."

She giggled and girlishly and looked down. her already rosey cheeks darkening. "I felt that too," she said. Taking his hand, she weaved her fingers through his and squeezed. She turned her eyes up to him, liquid dark and shimmering with happy light, and Lincoln felt it again, that curious gnawing in his chest and deep in the pit of his gut.

Human beings, like all animals, are instinctual creatures, the only difference being that we have names for the things we feel - lust, envy, anger, hatred. Even so, you do not need a neat and nifty label to know what stirs in your chest, just as Lincoln did not need one now, as he lifted Linka's hand to his mouth and kissed each one of her knuckles. He simply _knew_ , and let his body lead his brain. "I love you," he said.

Linka smiled, touched the side of his face, and chastely kissed his lips. "I love you too, Lincoln."

The second time was slower than the first, characterized by less urgency. Linka straddled him and rocked her body against his, her hands splayed on his shoulders and her head bent, strands of white hair falling across her face and her curved back arching forward with every thrust. Lincoln gripped her hips and admired her beauty, from her flashing eyes to her cocky smile to the hypnotic sway of her breasts. Perfect...she was perfect in every way, and each forward drive knocked him deeper and deeper into love with her. She laid flat against him and they kissed deeply as their bodies moved into one another, and when he felt himself beginning to cum, he hugged her to his chest and buried his nose in her hair; the first shot made her seize, and the second shake. She moaned his name and her body closed tight around him, her walls coaxing his seed out and drawing it into her womb.

For a long time, they laid in comfortable silence, Linka's head and hand resting on Lincoln's chest and Lincoln's arm wrapped around her shoulders, both drowsing and more at peace than they had ever been before. When a knock came at the door, the tranquility shattered like a pane of glass, and both opened their eyes.

"Y-Yeah?" Lincoln called, hoping it was just Lisa but fearing it wasn't.

The handle turned and Lisa stuck her head in, her nose crinkling slightly. Lincoln's eyes went there first...then to the gold star stuck to her forehead, his brow creasing in confusion. "I take it from the pungent odor that you've _gotten to know each other_."

Lincoln and Linka both blushed embarrassedly, and Lincoln nodded. "Uh...yeah, we, uh, w-we did."

"Good," Lisa said, "because our parents and siblings will be home in twenty minutes." Without another word, she withdrew and closed the door behind her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke - they both knew this moment would come, but neither had allowed themselves to think about it. "I-I guess that means I have to go," Linka said, a stricken inflection in her voice. She made no move to get up, though.

"We can wait a few more minutes," Lincoln said and unconsciously held her closer.

She sighed sadly and brushed her palm up and down his chest, her nails leaving white tracks in their wake. "I don't wanna go," she said sullenly.

"I don't want you to either," Lincoln said, and was only half-surprised to find tears welling in his eyes,

A few minutes passed too quickly, and she was sitting on the edge of the bed, gathering her skirt and blouse from the floor with a downcast expression that made Lincoln's heart ache. He pulled his jeans on and stared down at his bare feet, unable to bear the look in her eyes.

Standing, she pulled her skirt on, then shrugged into her blouse, doing each button with the somber air of a woman digging her own grave. When she was done, Lincoln came up behind her, draped his arms over her shoulders, and pulled her against him; her hands went to his forearm and clung desperately. "This is still really strange," she said.

"I know," he said.

She blew a huff of air. "Especially... _this_ ," she said in a tone that clearly indicated them. "I've known you, like, an hour, but I…"

"I know," he said, hugging her close and nuzzling her neck. She fit so perfectly in his arms, almost like she was made for him and him alone, and he for her. It had been less than an hour, maybe a little more, since he walked into his bedroom and saw a mirror image of himself, and in that time, he'd come to love her: The sound of her laughter, the way she spoke, her eyes and her smile. He couldn't say he didn't feel _whole_ before her, but right now, staring the prospect of parting from her in the face, he knew for certain that he wouldn't feel whole _after_. "It's crazy but I feel like…"

"You're my soulmate," she blurted.

Lincoln's cheeks flushed. He wouldn't have put it so sappily, but yeah, he felt like she was his soulmate too. "Soulmate," he said, prickling at how schmaltzy it sounded, but rolling the meaning through his head and finding it apt.

She leaned back into him and they swayed gently from side to side, her lips touching his arm and his nose drawing in her scent, storing it in his brain like a squirrel storing nuts for the long, cold winter ahead. "We'll see each other," he vowed. "It's not that hard."

"No," she agreed. "It took us, like, two minutes to get here." She kissed his arm. "And you better believe I'm coming back. I'm kind of attached now."

Lincoln laughed. "So am I. So much so that I might turn up at your doorstep one day with a suitcase."

She giggled. "I don't know how well that'll work out. My brothers can be _kind_ of protective." She frowned to herself. "Plus there's the whole explaining that you're from another dimension thing. I don't know how my parents feel about me dating outside my universe."

" _I'm_ from another dimension?" he asked. "No, _you're_ from another dimension."

"Nope," she said, "I'm from the normal world. This is Bizarroworld. Where my brothers are girls." Her brow furrowed. "I'm not gonna lie, I'd love to meet the rest of your sisters one day just to see how it all...translates. I can't imagine Luke or Loki as girls."

"Yeah, and I can't imagine Lola as a boy."

"Which one is she?" Linka asked.

"Six. Beauty pageants. Pink and glittery."

Linka snorted. "That sounds like Lexx. Leif is absolutely disgusting, but I love him to pieces."

"Same with Lana," Lincoln said, "God, she's so gross."

Turning in his arms, Linka lifted a brow. "Does she eat frog guts too?"

"Frog guts?"

Linka nodded. "Umhm. He had a frog one time and he says it died on its own but we don't know - either way he ate some of its innards." She stuck out her tongue, then laughed when Lincoln legitimately gagged.

"No, as far as I know, she's _never_ done that. I'm pretty sure she eats dog poop, though."

"Oh, God, one time I caught him with a bowl full of kitty litter. "What are you doing, Leif?" "Just having a snack." Like seriously? What's _wrong_ with you?" They both laughed and she nestled closer. "My family's nuts. It sounds like yours is too."

"It's like a psych ward sometimes. April Fools Day -"

"- used to be a nightmare," Linka moaned. "But then...things happened and Lane stopped."

Lincoln lifted a brow. They actually got him to quit? Wow. He and his sisters (and parents) had been trying to get Luan to stop for years, but each time around she only got worse. "What happened?"

Sighing sadly, Linka said, "Loki, Luke, Lexx, and Lynn beat him up. Pretty bad."

Wait wat? "T-They did?"

"Umhm. They put bars of soap in socks and jumped him in bed. Dad was _pissed_. They were grounded for, like six months."

"They sound rough," Lincoln said, and suddenly found himself worried.

Linka hummed. "Yeah, they can be kind of rough with each other. But -"

The door opened and Lisa stuck her head in, her brow heavy with impatience. "Today, please."

"We'll be right there," Lincoln said.

Nodding, she drew back but left the door ajar.

Linka sighed. "I guess I better go." She sounded like going was the last thing on the face of the earth she wanted to do, which it must be, because it was certainly the last thing on earth _he_ wanted her to do. Grudgingly, he released her, and she hung her head in dejection. Every fiber of his being yearned to sweep her back into his arms and never let go, instead he took her hand and slipped his fingers through hers.

Before they left the room, his eyes fell on something at the foot of the dresser: Their underwear. All of it - his briefs,, her panties, and her bra - wound up in a semi neat pile. "You're forgetting something," he said and nodded to them.

She followed his gaze. "Oh," she said, "almost." She stooped down...and picked up _his_ underwear. "I'll keep yours and you can keep mine," she said with a girlish grin. "You know...to, like, remember me by."

"Uh...okay," he said and chuckled. "If you want."

"I do," she said, then shoved them into her blouse. "I better just put these away, though. It might look kind of weird."

"You _are_ kind of weird," he teased.

"Shhh," she grinned, "don't tell anyone."

Lincoln zipped his lips. "Thank you," she said and smiled prettily.

Holding hands, they went out into the hall and into Lisa's room, their steps slow, both wanting to draw out the seconds before they would have to part. Lisa sat at her desk with her arms crossed and Levi leaned against the flanking half, his arms also crossed. Lincoln was so taken aback by the whole situation - Levi and Linka, alternate universes, her being there for them to, uh, bond - that he never really looked at the boy until now. Whereas he (Lincoln) and Linka were not identical, Lisa and Levi were, save for his hair, which was shorter. That, Lincoln figured, had to do with their age. As each grew into their gender, differences would present themselves, but for now they were the spitting image of one another.

"Ready?" Levi asked.

Linka sighed deeply. "Yeah. I guess." She turned to Lincoln and held fast to his hand, their gazes locking and matching smiles crossing their lips as both felt the by-now familiar stirring in their souls. Instead of speaking, they hugged, Linka's arms slipping around his neck and Lincoln's circling around her waist. She rubbed her nose against his and giggled when he did it back. "That tickles," she said.

"Taste your own medicine," he said archly.

"My own medicine, huh?" she asked and pressed her forehead to his.

"Your own medicine," he confirmed.

They looked into one another's eyes, then tilted their heads and kissed softly, their tongues gently caressing its mate with tender reverence. Lisa glanced at the clock on her computer and Levi looked uncomfortably away.

The kiss broke, and Linka smiled wanly, a hint of sadness in her eyes that stuck Lincoln like a knife, and it was then that he realized he would do anything for this girl. He loved her with an intensity that surprised him, a depth that defied logic. Had it really only been an hour? It felt like longer, like he'd known her forever, like he'd _treasured_ her forever.

She smiled weakly, and rested the side of her head against his chest, her hands splaying on his back and her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if to hang on for just a moment longer. Lincoln brushed his fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead.

"We really should be going," Levi said briskly.

Linka sighed and pulled away, her hand going to the side of Lincoln's face. "I'll see you soon," she said.

"Not if I see you first," he smiled and pecked her lips.

She longingly caressed his cheek, then turned away with a sigh and followed her brother to the teleporter. He waved a card in front of a black keypad, and the sliding door opened with a whoosh. Linka stepped in, then Levi, both turning to face out as the door closed again. She held up a hand, and Lincoln returned the wave, his chest already aching with loss and hot tears welling in his eyes.

The air around the teleporter shimmered like heat rising from summer asphalt...then with a _zap_ and a whiff of ozone, it was gone, and with it Lincoln's heart. He stood there for a long time, his shoulders slumped and his head hung, feeling gutted and cold.

"You developed feelings for her," Lisa said from beside him. It was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah," he admitted, "I did." He wiped his eyes with his middle finger. "I-I fell in love with her." It sounded nonsensical to his own ears, falling in love with someone when you really don't even know them, but he knew how he felt, and he was in love with Linka full stop, crazy or not.

Lisa nodded slightly as though she had expected this. "We figured it was a possibility, though it occured to neither of us until it was too late." She stared at the spot where the teleporter stood just moments ago, the look in her eyes not all that different from the one in her brother's. "You won't see her as often as you'd like, and you'll think about her quite often, sometimes to the point of it affecting your work. You'll remember something she did or said and find yourself grinning like a fool, and sometimes, not having her with you will physically hurt. You'll feel like a flower cut off from sunlight. Wilting." Lincoln did not fail to notice that she rolled her eyes up to the star on her forehead when she added, "But that makes seeing her all the more special."

Lincoln carefully considered her words, and their implications. "Have you told him?" he asked.

"No," Lisa said, "we have, I believe, an mutual understanding. Unspoken."

He thought of Linka - the light in her eyes when she smiled and the way she felt in his arms. "You should," he said.

Lisa sighed. "To what end? It would be one thing if he lived on the other side of the street or on the other side of town, but he doesn't. He lives on the other side of forever; he has his circumstances and I have mine. One day, things may be different, but for now they are what they are." She blinked rapidly and turned away. "Now if you'll excuse me," she said, her voice thicker than normal, "I must be getting back to my work."

Across an infinite gulf of space and time, in the chamber of a machine, Levi glanced at his older sister, the corners of his mouth turning down at her dejected posture: Head bowed, shoulders slumped. Sighing, he stared straight ahead as the glass cleared, revealing his bedroom in his timeline, so mind-bogglingly far from Lisa that he seldom allowed himself to think about it. "You have feeling for him," he said.

"Yes," Linka said, her voice flat and empty. "I do. Strong ones."

Levi nodded. "It didn't occur to either Lisa or I that this may happen until it was too late. I apologize."

She looked at him strangely. "Why?"

"Because," he said, "feeling for someone from afar is a lonely and painful thing. You don't see them as often as you want, you think of them constantly, and sometimes you feel as though you are incomplete without them. It's not something I wanted for you."

Linka mulled his words over for a quiet moment, taking stock of her emotions...especially the gaping hole in the center of her chest. "I _do_ feel incomplete," she said, "but I'm really happy I met him."

"I understand," he said. "If you wish to see him, arrangements can be made, but it won't happen with the frequency you might want...or need."

Yeah. She kind of figured that. "Have you told...Lisa how you feel?"

She was surprised when he answered instantly and forthrightly. "No, I haven't. I believe she knows, and I suspect that she feels similarly. One day, I-I hope for things to be different, but for now, she lives across a yawning chasm of time and space, with her own affairs while I have mine. Pursuing it further than we already have seems illogical."

"Yeah," Linka said at length, "but when she's in your arms, all that ceases to matter."

Levi opened his mouth to counter, but stopped, because deep down, he could see her point, and in a way, he agreed. "Well, that's a concern for another day," he said and punched a series of numbers into the keypad; the door slid open, and the familiar smells, and sounds, of home washed over them. "Right now, I need to make sure no one's broken their fool necks in my absence." He stepped out of the chamber, and after a brief hesitation, Linka followed.

Even surrounded that day by ten raucous brothers and two long-suffering parents, she had never felt more alone in her life.

And hoped that she never would again.


	5. Missing You

Lincoln Loud considered himself a normal boy: He wasn't the toughest, or the strongest (realistically, there's always going to be someone bigger and stronger than you, even if your name is Arnold Schwarzenegger), but he sure as hell didn't think he was a _flower_ , yet that's how he felt: Like a flower wilting in the sun. Linka was his water, his fresh, clean, nourishing, life-giving water, but the existence of fresh water across a gulf of time and space doesn't mean jackshit if _you_ don't have any: Just ask the people in Africa. That's to say: He missed her so much it literally hurt, like his heart turned into a tooth and then got infected. During the day, he wandered dazedly through life like a shell-shocked refugee, and at night he lay awake in bed struggling to find sleep but finding only thoughts of her. His brain told him he shouldn't feel this way - he barely knew her, pseudo-doppelganger or not. They were together roughly one hour and five minutes - he checked. That _can't_ be long enough to fall completely and irretrievably in love. That takes time and effort, it's not something that just happens. Oh, the foundation can be laid in no time at all, but this wasn't a plain concrete slab, this was a whole goddamn skyscraper.

Yet while he could second-guess his feelings until he was blue in the face, he couldn't deny them: He did, indeed, love Linka Loud, the girl who looked just like him (more or less). Human beings, like animals, operate largely on smell - a child recognizes its mother by the pheromones she secretes, and women (and men) become aroused for seemingly no reason at all when a member of the opposite sex walks by _because of smell_. Maybe, he figured, his love for Linka was like that - an attraction based more on biology than logic. She _was_ the female version of him, after all, so maybe the pheromones she put off worked more strongly on him. We all have certain needs, physical, emotional, intellectual, and yes, even spiritual, and maybe, just maybe, our scents somehow advertise that - take a boy and a girl who need the same things and put them in a room together, and boom, they'll subconsciously smell each other, know that the other person has everything they desire in a mate, and fall head over heels for each other like _that_.

Or maybe not.

Maybe, deep down, he was a narcissist and loved Linka because she was basically him, but with boobs. He didn't _think_ he was, but don't they say crazy people believe themselves to be perfectly sane? He had flaws, he admitted to them, and there were certain features of his personality that he didn't like, but he didn't hate himself, nor did he love himself...at least not in a manner that could be considered unhealthy. Still, putting everything else aside, the thought of walking into a room, meeting a girl who could almost pass for your reflection, and going goo-goo seems kind of...fucked up.

That's what he did, though.

Well...not _exactly,_ but close enough: They talked for a couple minutes then started making out. After that, they had sex, talked a little more, and went their separate ways. Doesn't sound very romantic, and it doesn't sound like enough time or effort to be able to say _I love you_ and not feel insincere - or confused. When he told her that, though, he meant it, and it felt so good and right that he could say it again and again and again and _still_ not tire of it.

Why?

Who knows? He didn't care, not really; thinking of that was better than thinking of how much he missed her, however. Focusing on the how and why of it wasn't foolproof, though - thoughts of her would come at random times, and sharp pangs would ripple through his stomach. He'd be sitting in bed reading a comic, and suddenly find himself wishing she was curled up beside him, her head and hand resting on his chest and his arm around her shoulders. In those moments, the fact that she wasn't ripped his heart out and tore it to shreds.

And the worst part of it all?

It had only been two days - two days since he watched her climb into the teleporter and set sail across the space-time continuum or what the hell ever it was, two days since he trudged back to his room, dropped onto his bed, and almost cried, two long, restless, feeling-like-a-convict-in-a-cell days. _You won't see her as often as you want,_ Lisa told him, and she was right; Lisa was _always_ right. If it was up to him, he'd see her every second of every day, but it _wasn't_ up to him, it was up to _circumstance_. See, for them to be able to meet, the conditions had to be _just_ right, the way atmospheric conditions had to be just right to spawn a hurricane or a tornado. Their relationship had to be kept secret from twenty-two people who lived with one or the other of them, and if Linka's family was anything like his (and he knew all too well that it was), that meant she got just as little privacy as he did. They could _make_ time the way Lisa made time the other day (he didn't know how she got everyone out of the house - he didn't care and he didn't ask), but they couldn't do it _often_ , ergo Lisa's warning.

 _You won't see her as often as you want_.

That was so true, but you know what? While it hurt like hell...he didn't mind it. Long distance relationships, or so he had heard, are torture - loving someone who isn't there, seeing and touching them only rarely, being alone and _aching_ for your other half like an amputee aching for their missing limbs. So far, he'd found that to be true, but he loved Linka Loud with all his heart, and though not having her constantly with him was a nightmare, she was worth it.

Not that that made it any easier. Today, Thursday afternoon, Lincoln sat in the living room armchair with a comic open in his lap, rain sluicing down the window pane and his sisters clustered around the coffee table like the intergalactic senate from _Star Wars,_ Lori texting, Leni brushing her hair, Lynn playing with one of those dumb paddle ball things (he told her to take the Dirty Bubble Challenge and she was actually trying, lol), Lola practically masturbating to herself in a compact mirror, and...you get the picture. They were all doing them and each looked perfectly content.

Unlike him.

Lori was the first to notice something was off about him - when he came in, sat down, and started to stare at his comic (he couldn't actually focus on reading it), she looked at him and lifted her brow. _Uh, Lincoln?_

 _Yeah?_

 _Why aren't you in your underwear?_

Ah. Right. When he read comics, he did it in nothing but his tighty whities - for maximum comfort. Come on, don't look at me like that, who doesn't like to be comfortable when they read? After all, the saying is _snuggle up with a good book_ not...I dunno...go sit on a fucking cactus with a good book.

 _I just don't feel like it,_ he said. That wasn't a lie - his concentration was shot and he wouldn't be any better off in undies than in jeans. He missed Linka and couldn't stop thinking about her - screw his underwear, screw his comic, screw everything.

Not being able to concentrate, he spent as much time looking at his sisters as he did at the panels - every once in a while, he'd catch one glancing worriedly at him. Instead of getting defensive (because that tells everyone you have something to defend, dig?) he ignored them and pretended his heart _wasn't_ throbbing and his stomach _wasn't_ rolling sickly. Normally, he liked hanging out with his sisters on rainy days, but today he just wasn't feeling it - he'd much rather be with Linka, sorry, sis(es).

He sighed and stared down at the page: Ace Savvy stood over a fallen villain to deliver a monologue on the writer's (I mean his) idea of justice. Two days ago, he was a fangirl for this crap, but right now just looking at it made him sneer in contempt. They say that having sex with a woman makes you a man - he always thought that was bullshit, but maybe it wasn't, maybe he was a man now and the childish things that once brought him pleasure no longer would. Oh, Glob Man, uh, look at me, I'm a heap of goo and I fight crime. As for Ace...look at this thing, it's a fucking cartoon in static.

 _I wish Linka was here. I miss her so much._

He drew a heavy breath and flipped the page: Ace, One-Eyed Jack, and their _boy associate_ The Red Spade shared a laugh as the baddie was dragged off panel by the police. Why do superheroes always hang out with young boys? Kind of fishy if you ask me. Batman and Robin running around in little tights...then going back to the Batcave and taking them off...slowly.

Wasn't there a cartoon parody of that called _The Super Gay Duo_ or something? They drove around in a car that looked suspiciously like a dick and when they flew, one would perch on the other's back like they were having sex. Lol.

 _I really miss her and it hurts so bad._

Another sigh.

Yeah, superheroes were pretty lame when you got right down to it. So was fantasy - buncha Hobbits with hairy feet and elf ears singing heigh-ho as they prance through The Enchanted Forest of a Thousand Fairies. _Heeey, sailor._ Even _Star Wars_ and stuff was dumb. I mean, that's gotta be the most generic title ever. It's about a war...in the stars. And George Lucas...pfft, everyone acts like he's god, but outside of _Star Wars_ and _Indiana Jones_ (both of which were heavily plagiarized from other sources, by the way), what has he given us? _Howard the Duck?_ Gee, thanks, George.

 _I think I'm gonna cry._

Suddenly, the walls felt like they were closing in and it was hard to breathe. He looked up from the comic, and Luan looked hurriedly down at her lap like she was surreptitiously watching him. His vision started to blur, and he jumped up and rushed up the stairs before he broke down, leaving the dumb superhero comic tented on the floor. Fuck it.

In his room, he dropped onto the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands, then took a deep, shivery breath. His lips started to quiver, and he sucked them into his mouth and bore down on them with his teeth. The tears didn't fall, but they came close, and when he swallowed, it was around a cold lump of emotion.

Man up, will you? Lori hasn't seen Bobby in, like, a month, is _she_ rushing up the stairs to go sob it out? No, she's sitting down there like a normal person and _dealing._ You're just too goddamn sensitive, _that's_ your problem. You've been steeped in estrogen since the day you were born and it's turned you into a super woman. No, no, that makes you sound like a hero. It's turned you into Super Bitch.

At least she can text Bobby...I don't even have that.

The tears threatened to overwhelm him...then burned off when a brilliant idea struck him.

In the living room, Lori twisted around to look up the stairs, then sighed. "Something's wrong with Lincoln," she said, a note of concern in her voice.

"Yeah," Luan frowned, "he looked sad."

"Maybe one of us should talk to him," Lynn said. "See what his problem is...then play football with him until he's over it." She grinned. "That always helps me when _I'm_ down."

Leni rolled her eyes. "Getting, like, beaten up won't make him feel better. He needs a hug."

"I'll talk to him," Lisa spoke. She sat before the coffee table, a thick science text open before her. She got to her feet, grabbed it, and snapped it close, tucking it under her arm - it was almost as big as she was. "Once I've discovered the root cause of his current state, I will report back and we can proceed from there."

She hurried off before any of them could ask further questions or provide irrelevant insight; she knew damned well why he was depressed, and having felt similarly herself, she knew her talking to him wouldn't help, but he needed to control himself better lest their sisters begin demanding answers. She loved and respected Lincoln, but he'd fold under scrutiny faster than a one dollar bill in a stripper's G-string.

Reaching his door, she lifted her hand to knock, but started when it was ripped open from the inside and Lincoln filled the frame. He jumped back in alarm, then, realizing it was her, relaxed. "I have a question," he asked before she could speak. There was a hopeful light in his eyes that Lisa didn't particularly like - hopeful people are often _irrational_ people.

"What?"

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his cellphone, and held it up. "Can you rig this thing so I can talk to Linka?"

Lisa sighed. "Lincoln, I told you -"

"I know," he said, "I won't get to see her often. Fine. But I-I just want to hear her voice. A-And text her." His voice broke with emotion, and Lisa felt a deep, quivering pang of sympathy. She missed Levi as well, but at least she had the ability to video conference with him when she wanted.

"Yes," she said, "I can. Would you like me to?"

He held the phone out. "Please?"

* * *

Luke Loud dropped onto the couch next to his brother Loki and sniffed deeply like a cokehead bumping a fat rail. Lexx and Leif sat at the coffee table, one with a magazine and the other with a jar full of ants or some shit, Loni sat on Loki's other side watching TV, his eyes crossed dumbly, Levi was reading in a corner like a loner/future school shooter, and -

"You're in my spot."

Luke turned his head: Lars stood at the arm of the couch, his eyes hidden by his gay ass emo haircut and his arms limp at his sides. Luke looked his little brother up and down and sniffed again. "Sorry, bro, you know the rules: Move your feet, lose your seat."

"I called check seat," Lars said, his voice rising slightly.

Luke shrugged. " _I_ didn't hear it." He turned to Loki. "Did _you_ hear it?"

Without looking up from his phone, Loki said, "Nah, I didn't hear it." It was clear from his tone that he did.

"I called it," Lars said indignantly.

"Doesn't count if no one heard it," Luke said and grinned evilly.

For a moment Lars seemed to consider his options, then made the wrong choice. "Get out of my spot," he said tightly.

Luke laughed. "Or what? You gonna summon the forces of darkness?"

On the floor, Lexx snickered. "More like the forces of dorkness."

Everyone laughed, and Lars's pale face turned light red. "Get. Out." He came around the arm like he was going to do something, and Luke dropped him with a quick jab to the stomach: With a breathless _umph,_ he fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around his midsection. Loni laughed hysterically and stomped his feet; Lexx slapped the table; Leif pointed at the emo and howled; Loki snickered mean-spiritedly; and Levi looked up from his book, rolled his eyes, and dipped back in. Lars hung his head and hissed through clenched teeth.

"What's the matter, Mr. Dark as night?" Loki asked. "Can't handle a little pain?"

Luke clucked his tongue. "He's faking like a little bitch."

"Am not," Lars panted, "that _hurt_."

"Maybe you'll think before you buck up next time," Luke said and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, grazing Lexx's shoulder in the process.

Lexx turned and shot him a dirty look. "Excuse me."

Luke drew one leg back and jammed the bottom of his boot against the back of Lexx's head, driving it forward. "You're excused. Fag."

Crying out, Lexx pulled away and punched Luke's leg. Luke sat forward, but Lexx was smaller and quicker; he slipped under the coffee table and popped up on the other side with a bratty smirk. Luke started to get up, and like a shot, Lexx was gone up the stairs. "That's right," Luke said and settled back into his spot.

Panting, Lars staggered to his feet and glared. Luke ignored him. "I hate you," Lars said, his voice breaking.

At the end of the couch, Loni snickered. "That's, like, such a strong word for such a weak little boy."

Luke threw his head back and laughed. Even though Loni was a retard, he had his moments. You know what they say, even a broken clock is right twice a day.

Taking a deep breath through flaring nostrils, Lars spun and stalked out of the room. "If anyone needs me," he grumbled as he climbed the stairs, "I'll be in my room cutting myself."

"Up the road, little bro," Luke called after him, "up the road." He counted to five, bobbing his head back and forth on each number, then grinned when the satisfying sound of Lars's door slamming resounded through the house. He wasn't really gonna cut himself, he just thought that made him sound tough or something. _Look at me, I like pain._ He must, though, or else he wouldn't have stepped up the way he did.

On TV, an anchor spoke over video of a campaign rally. " _President Ivan Trump and First Lady Donna were in Des Moines today ahead of the 2020 election…"_

"What the hell are we watching?" Luke asked and snatched the remote off the table.

"The news, duh," Loni said, "it makes you smart."

Loki chuckled. "Not when you're as dumb as you are."

"He makes Patrick from Spongebob look like Levi," Leif said, and everyone except Levi and Loni laughed.

It was true; Luke loved his bro, but dude was a fucking 'tard and a half. This one time he was putting his shirt on and started spazzing out because he _forgot_ how and got tangled up. Another time, he spent ten minutes gazing wide-eyed out the window because he thought their neighborhood was on TV - the TV _was_ in front of the window, but Luke and Loki moved it - to the pawn shop. Hey, when you and your bro got girls with expensive tastes, five bucks a week in allowance isn't enough. The three months' grounding and having to pay Dad back the full amount...each...wasn't really worth it, though, especially since Luke's girl Holly turned out to be a cunt.

"Guys, I'm _not_ dumb," Loni said. "I'm S-M-A-uhhhh." He glanced at Levi for help. "How do you spell _smart_?"

Loki laughed. "Not dumb? You coulda fooled _me_."

Luke opened his mouth to pile on, but Lane came in from the kitchen and suddenly Loni's dumb ass went from public enemy number one to...uh..not public enemy number one. "Oh, shit," he drew, "what up, Lame?"

In the Loud house, you savaged your bros without mercy - all of them - but Lars and Lane were the family whipping boys because Lars was sensitive and Lane was the biggest fucking dork to ever live. I mean, look at this guy: Plaid high water shorts, rainbow suspenders, flower on his shirt. Pfft. How he made it through the school day without getting mad swirlies and being stuffed into every locker he passed, Luke would never know. But that was okay; his bros made up for it when he got home.

Rolling his eyes, Lane laughed sarcastically. "Ha, ha, ha. That's even funnier the twenty millionth time."

"Unlike your jokes," Loki sniped.

"They're, like, not even funny the first time around," Loni added in an obvious attempt to get the heat off himself.

Lane shook his head and sighed, then started across the living room. Luke backhanded Loki's chest and nodded at their prey. "Look at those teeth. Kid's more metal than _I am_. Get it?"

"His mouth literally looks like a railroad switchyard."

Luke dangled his wrist and said, in the most stereotypical gay lisp he could muster, "Choo, choo, all aboard, fellas. Next stop, my ass."

"Yeah, real funny," Lane grumbled. His cheeks were starting to blush, which meant they were getting to him; maybe it was DNA, but every one of them got literally red-faced when they were angry, which was a curse because it was basically a flashing neon sign that read _KEEP GOING! KEEP GOING!_

And Luke was all too happy to oblige. "What kind of fag plays with dolls, anyway?"

"It's not a doll," Lane said, "it's -"

"It's a fucking doll, dude," Loki put in. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it was a male doll, but you specifically chose a chick doll."

Loni tittered. "Probably so he can look at her boobs."

"Only rack _he's_ ever gonna see in person," Luke said.

"Because he's ugly and no girl wants him," Loni said.

Lane's blush deepened and his nostrils flared. "Uh-oh, guys, he's gonna pop off," Luke taunted.

"You better watch out," Leif said, "he'll bite you with that big beaver tooth."

Lane took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Fuck you guys," he said, and went to the stairs, probably to go cry and cut himself with Lars. Luke considered going after him, twisting his arm behind his back, and making him cry uncle, but figured that might be going a little too far in this case. Instead, he kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and changed the channel to VH1 Classic, where AC/DC blistered through Let's Get It Up.

"Alright," Luke said and crossed his arms.

"Whoopie," Loki drew. "Dad rock."

Luke blew a raspberry. "This isn't Dad rock."

"Yes it is," Loki said, "they're as bad as Journey."

Luke's cheeks burned. Did this asshole really just compare AC/DC to fucking _Journey?_ Alright, you can say AC/DC's "old" or even "lame" (if you wanna be wrong), but calling it Dad rock and saying they're on the same level as _na na na na na na, lovin' and touchin'_ is over the fucking _line_. "Dude, they are _nothing_ like Journey. Journey's for fags."

"So's AC/DC," Loki pressed.

"No they aren't."

Loki gesture wildly to the TV. "Look at him, he's dressed like a fucking schoolboy. It's as bad as The Village People."

Luke's grip tightened on the remote and his chest slammed with anger. He knew Loki was just fucking with him, but that's like fucking with a Christian by saying God's a homo or something; _really, really_ messed up.

"I don't get it," Loni said and lifted one hand, "why's he wearing boyshorts?"

That was it. "Fuck you, he's not wearing boyshorts. Dumbass. Dumb fuck. Stupid bitch." Started to throw the remote at him, but froze when he caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. He turned just as Linka sat in the armchair, her face set in a hard, pissed-off glower. Uh-oh. Putting on his biggest and brightest smile, he waved. "Hey, Link. What's up?"

She glared for a moment, then settled into the chair and opened a book. "Nothing," she said, "you?"

"Just...hanging with the boys." He snaked his arm around Loki's shoulder and drew him close; Loki responded by shoving him away and calling him a fag. Linka wasn't the boss of the house (fuck that, Luke _had_ no boss...except his parents), but it's almost like she was. He looked at her almost the way he did Mom - he could knock her out and call her a bitch, what's she gonna do? - but, dude, it's my Mom! Same with Linka without the Mom part. He, you know, loved and respected her and all that other gay stuff.

Plus, when she got _really_ mad, she could be kind of scary.

Nodding slowly, she brought the book up and covered her face. "Good."

On TV, AC/DC went off and Aerosmith came on: Loki didn't have shit to say, and neither did Loni, so Luke got to rock out in peace. Finally.

For Linka, however, there _was_ no peace. Curling up in an oversized armchair with a good book _always_ made her happy, but not today. In fact, nothing could make her happy...except for being in Lincoln's arms...with her head on his chest...listening to the strong, soothing rhythm of his heartbeat and kissing his warm skin with her fingertips. Ummm, that thought made her heart ache with loss, longing, and just plain sadness because she couldn't have it.

Sudden tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked them back.

Just over an hour...doesn't seem like long enough to really fall in love with someone. To really love them, you have to spend time together, see them in many different shades and seasons, build a bond over weeks or months, maybe even years. Regardless, in that short amount of time, she fell deeply in love with Lincoln Loud, so deep she couldn't see the light of day, so deep she couldn't find her way back if she wanted to - she left no trail of breadcrumbs like Hansel and Gretel, and if she did, she wouldn't follow them home again no matter _how_ much it hurt to not be with him.

Sighing, she flipped to the last chapter she remembered reading and tried to lose herself, but thoughts of Lincoln assailed her from every angle. Levi said she would think of him constantly, and he was right; since stepping out of that teleporter and picking up where she'd left off only an hour before (God, it seemed like so much longer), Lincoln crowded out everything else, filling her skull like an ever expanding balloon until it felt like her head was going to explode.

Was it _really_ love, though, or was it infatuation? She'd asked herself that a dozen times over the past two days, and had reached the conclusion that it _was_ love. She'd been infatuated with boys before, but nothing she had ever felt compared to this - it was strong and hot but at the same time soft and warm, and her heart, her very _body,_ ached to be with him, to be in his arms and to have his fingers threaded through hers.

When thinking about him became too much to bear, she started to think about _why_ she loved him and _how._ For one thing, they might not be one hundred percent identical, but they were close enough - not as close as Leif and Lexx in appearance, but if they were together you'd think they were twins. That's weird, isn't it? To look into virtually your own face and see endless beauty? To hold it in your hands, stare into _almost_ your own eyes, and _fall?_ She considered herself a normal girl - she didn't self-loathe, but she also didn't unhealthily self-love. Actually, she never really liked the way she looked. She didn't despise it or despair over it, but she didn't think she was particularly attractive. Body image issues are normal in girls, and hers were so miniscule as to be not even worth mentioning, but the fact of the matter was, she did not think she was a narcissist, so the fact that she was so flipping _attracted_ to a boy who looked just like her was strange.

Like...would _you_ fall in love with someone who looked like you?

Maybe it had to do with, like, pheromones - you know, the _chemical substance produced and released into the environment by an animal, especially a mammal or an insect, affecting the behavior or physiology of others of its species._ (That's right, I was paying attention to class and not to my crotch _that_ day). Since she and Lincoln were so similar, maybe their pheromones had a special effect on one another. _Here's an L-shaped pheromone leaving Lincoln and fitting just so into the L-shaped slot in Linka's heart_.

 _I miss him like crazy._

She flipped the page and sighed dejectedly. Being apart from Lincoln was misery, and since they went their separate ways, time had slowed to a hellish crawl, every minute dragging into infinity, every second like an icy needle in her heart.

And the worst part about it?

It had only been two days. Two long, tortuous, never-ending, stomach-rending, every-waking-moment-I-think-of-him-until-it-drives-me-crazy days. And as far as she could tell, there would be many, many more. Levi stressed the importance of Lisa, Lincoln, and their universe (the very multiverse itself) remaining a secret, so it wasn't like she could tell her parents that she wanted to go hang out with the boy from across the galaxy. That meant that in order for them to have time together, they had to do it under the noses of twenty-two people, and if Lincoln's family was anything like her own (and she knew all too well that it was), he got just as little privacy as she did. They could _make_ time, but they couldn't do it _often_.

 _I think I'm going to cry again._

She blinked rapidly and glanced up from the book, which had come to rest on her lap - Luke looked away like he'd been furtively watching her. She looked back down at the page and centered herself. It wasn't so bad, really. So she couldn't see him every single day, it wasn't the end of the world. She'd always heard long distance relationships were hard, but knowing that there's someone out there loving you with all their heart and missing you just as badly as you miss them is _really_ beautiful, and kind of makes up for not actually being with them. She and Lincoln were not the same person no matter what anyone thought, but she believed they were similar enough that what she felt was what he felt too - meaning he wasn't out there in Bizarroworld macking on other girls and _pfft, forget Linka._ He was probably sitting in his bedroom or maybe even in his living room and having thoughts much like her own, and that, despite everything else, was pretty comforting. There was no rush, and his emotions had no expiration date: He would be there when the time came.

 _Focus on_ that, _Linka, and not how freaking much you what that time to be now._

Drawing a deep breath, she started to read, realized she'd idly flipped a bunch of pages ahead, and flipped back. She was reading this same book the day she met Lincoln, and it bugged her that since then she'd only read twenty pages since - even completely boy crazy and beside herself with passion, she was able to manage at _least_ a hundred a day.

Honestly, though...she didn't give a flip about this novel, or the protagonist, or the hunky love interest, or even the super cool car chase/shootout that happened ten pages back. She didn't care about anything but Lincoln - if he was here right now, curled up next to her, she'd be so happy she'd take off like a rocket and blast through the ceiling. Oh, Dad would _kill_ her but she wouldn't care.

 _But he's not here and you won't get to see him for a long time._

Sigh. She didn't know that for sure, but...probably. It was okay, though, no big.

 _I want to fall asleep in his arms._

She'd manage. Levi did; he never said, but she could tell that he really liked Lisa, and look at him over there...all reading and whatnot. If he could do it, so could she.

If only she could get rid of this awful ache in the center of her chest - it felt like she was being picked at by razor-sharp claws, and her stomach hurt too; every thought of Lincoln sent a ripple through her guts, and since _every_ thought was a Lincoln thought…

 _I'm still gonna cry._

The words on the page blurred and she could feel a breakdown coming. She snapped the book closed and got up; Luke, Loki, Loni, Leif, and Levi were all watching her, all of them with varying degrees of concern, Levi's the least and Luke's the deepest. "You okay, Link?" he asked softly as she passed.

"I'm fine," she said in a watery rush, "I just need to be alone." She could feel their gazes on her as she fled up the stairs, and she knew that at some point they'd come to make sure she was okay just like the good brothers they were.

For some reason, that did it: She was openly crying when she reached her room, and inside, with the door shut, she flopped onto the bed, buried her face in the pillow, and told it just how sad she really was.

In the living room, Luke and Loki exchanged a worried look. "I'm gonna go see what's wrong," Luke said and started to get up, but Levi cut him off.

"Sit down." He sat his book aside and stood. "I suspect Linka's emotional outburst is the result of a naturally occurring chemical process specific to females, and it would be better that I, being younger and more professional in such matters, and therefore less likely to cause her embarrassment, should be the one to talk to her."

Loni's face crinkled in confusion, and Luke tilted his head. "What the fuck are you talking about?" Loki asked.

"I think she's on her period."

Loni, Luke, and Loki all recoiled while Leif furrowed his brows. "What's her period?"

"I'll explain it later," Levi said and crossed to the foot of the stairs. The older boys watched him go with a mixture of apprehension and pained indecision. They loved Linka as dearly as he did, but each of them were ignorant enough to think of a female's menstrual cycle as some frightening and unstable substance that would blow them to Kingdom Come if so much as even broached. To boys, Levi had found, feminity is a mystery, and the workings of the female body a strange, uncomfortable, and off-putting subject. They relish, in graphic detail, the idea of copulating with it, but ask them to imagine childbirth or menstruation, and they react with revulsion.

Which is precisely why he chose that of all lies. He honestly didn't know when Linka's visit from Aunt Flo was due - he did not chart her cycle because why would he? - but he was almost certain that even if she _were_ on her period, it was not the cause of her peculiar behavior.

The cause was Lincoln.

At the top of the stairs, Levi paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. When Lisa suggested that they introduce Lincoln and Linka - like two pet owners arranging a doggy playdate - Levi was against the idea, but allowed himself to be persuaded because he cared about his sister, and the raging hormones with which she dealt, and the great discomfort they caused her, bothered him. Also because it seemed safer to pair her with Lincoln than to let her happen into a potentially untenable situation with someone else. He did not mean for her to fall in love with him and to suffer the same feelings he did in regards to Lisa; he should have known that she would, though. He should have seen it the moment Lisa mentioned the idea, and he should have stood fast in his refusal to consider it.

Lisa said that he was overprotective of Linka, a charge he denied, but now realized was valid. Would a brother who was not overprotective concern himself with his sister's sex life? Taking a step back and looking at it objectively, his desire to meddle was perplexing and perhaps even unhealthy. He saw her experiencing natural growing pains, and instead of allowing nature of take its course, he asserted himself. He could have, _should_ have, gone about his life and left Linka to her development, and trusted her to eventually make the right choices in matters of boys and sex, but he didn't.

Because he _was_ overprotective.

And his mother henning put Linka in a disadvantageous position - loving someone who was lightyears away. Oh, the trip was easy enough to make, but there were extenuating circumstances at play, and in his foolhardy attempt to help his sister, he wound up hurting her instead.

There was nothing he could do now, the damage had been done and barring the use of a time travel device (of which he had none), it would remain done. The only thing -

He started when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

 _I swear to God, if it's the Pentagon..._

He slipped it out and held it up.

LISA #1 the screen said.

The phone was connected to the tele-dimensional-trans-signifier (the device that allowed for communications between realities, obviously). Lisa never called it, though, and seeing her name sent Levi's stomach dropping; his first thought was that something was wrong.

He swiped his thumb across and lifted it to his ear. "Hello?"

There was a faint hiss of static; the connection between worlds was spotty at times, and never crystal clear even on the best of days. "You're a piss poor pen pal sometimes, Levi," Lisa said.

Levi blinked. "What?"

"I've been trying to reach you via video conference for the past fifteen minutes. I didn't think you left your laboratory for longer than ten."

"I was downstairs," he said, "it's raining and -"

"Here too," Lisa said. "How is Linka?"

Levi glanced at Linka's bedroom door - it was closed and uninviting. "She's reacting as I anticipated."

"She misses Lincoln."

"Yes."

Lisa hummed. "Well, Lincoln asked something of me earlier today that I hadn't gotten around to considering myself. It should make things a touch easier for them."

"What's that?" Levi asked.

"I am modifying Lincoln's mobile phone to send and receive TDTS signals and uplinking it to the TDTS in my lab. Do the same to Linka's."

Levi threw his head back. Why didn't _he_ think of that? Being able to communicate with your other half does indeed blunt the edge - he wasn't in constant contact with Lisa, but having the power to be if he so chose was reassuring. "Alright. I'll do that now."

"Good. I'm almost done with Lincoln's. I'll video call later."

"Alright. Talk then."

He hit the END button, shoved his phone back into his pocket, and went to Linka's door, hesitating before knocking. When she didn't reply, he turned the knob and poked his head in, confident that he would not find her in a compromising position.

She lie prostrate on her bed, her back hitching, and Levi's heart twinged painfully. He cleared his throat and rapped his knuckles against the doorframe. "Linka?"

Linka pushed up and looked over her shoulder; tears shimmered in her eyes and stained her red cheeks. She sniffed, ducked her head as if to hide her shame, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm fine," she said quickly.

"I just got off the phone with Lisa," he said, ignoring her lame assertion, "give me your cell and I'll modify it so that you and Lincoln may have a direct means of communi -"

Coming alive, Linka leapt to her knees, ripped her phone from her pocket, and held it out with a big, giddy smile that warmed Levi's heart.

"Here, please and thank you!"


	6. Twenty Questions

Lincoln waited impatiently for Lisa to finish with his phone the way an expectant father waited for his child to be born: Pacing, raking his fingers through his hair, drinking copious amounts of coffee from an endless stream of Styrofoam cups, and smoking one cigarette after another.

Okay, he didn't really do those last two, but he did plenty of the first two, his body crackling with restless energy even as his brain told him to chill the hell out. _You're being a drama queen, sit down and relax, damn._ Yeah, you're right, I guess I am...but that doesn't mean anything, Imma still do it.

It was like Christmas, his birthday, Easter, and the 4th of July (he was patriotic, sue him) were all happening on the same day...but with no set time. Noon? 4pm? 9? When, when, when? He was going out of his mind and racing from one end of his tiny closet bedroom to the other, sweat springing to his forehead and hot, panting exhalations bursting from his lungs. He knew his pad was small, but he'd never realized _how_ small until now - six paces from the desk to the door, three if he goosesepped. Still pretty big for a closet. 1216 was a spacious house, but this closet, man - looked like it belonged in Beverly Hills or something. You know the kind, bigger than most NYC apartments. You see them all the time on _Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous_ and _Cribs_. Speaking of apartments in New York, you ever see those people who live in literal walk-in closets in Manhattan and Queens? Yeah, landlords out ther rent crawlspaces and shit - no kitchens, no bathrooms - and people actually _go for it_. 'Oh, I love my place, it's so close to everything and it's only 900 dollars a month.' Seriously? You're paying 900 dollars a month to life in a glorified coffin? Are you retarded?

 _But...the subway is right there, and the Empire State Build -_

Where do you poop?

 _Well...I go to the gas station on the corner…_

Oh, nice, so just to move your bowels in December, you have to put on your snow boots, your parka, your gloves and hat, and trek through three blocks of frozen death. Stupid hipsters. Cry, bitch, and moan about capitalism, but gleefully let a hand-wringing, predatory slumlord take advantage of them...then go grab a coffee at Starbucks and work on their Apple laptop for all the world to see. _Look at me with my scarf, Buddy Holly glasses, and Wyatt Earp mustache, I'm so much better than you. My slam poetry collection is almost complete and will be the toast of the literary world. You've never heard of my favorite bands and I only drink IPA and Pabst Blue Ribbon._

God, people can be so dumb!

 _Like you...thinking of random shit._

Yeah, well, it's either that or -

 _LINKA!_

Ugh. Yes. Linka. Her soft hair, glowing eyes, pink lips, and enchanting voice. She's beautiful and perfect, but if I keep thinking about her I'm going to get depressed because she's not here, therefore I think about other things... _any_ other things.

Like...uhhh...he looked around, grasping at straws and seizing on Bun-Bun; the stuffed rabbit sat on top of the dresser between a red plastic robot and a participation trophy from some dumb race he ran in the second grade. This guy's been with me since I was a baby; with those beady little eyes, he's seen me learn to talk and walk, watched me potty train, tagged along on my first day of school...saw me lose my virginity…

Uhhh…

He went over, picked Bun-Bun up, and spun him around so that he faced the wall. Sorry you had to see that, buddy.

 _I'm not. I_ liked _it._

On second thought, he picked him up, opened the top drawer, dropped him onto a neatly folded pile of undies, and closed it again. There.

 _I can still hear moans from here._

Whatever. He sighed and looked at the door, willing Lisa to come through and hand him his phone, but it remained shut, like the sealed entrance of an Egyptian tomb, untouched and unseen under the desert sand since 2500 BC. You know the pyramids were originally coated in this white stuff that made them shine at night? It's true. I think Arab invaders stripped it off and huffed it or something. And if I'm not mistaken, Neoplean's men used the Sphinx for target practice in 1798 or something; aimed their cannons at it and blasted the nose right to hell. Or was it Hitler who did that? Sounds like something Hitler would do since, ya know, he was evil incarnate. Anything bad happens, blame it on Hitler. *Shakes fist at sky* _Damn you, Hitler, stop making it rain!_

I'm joking, Hitler was a douche and blowing the face off a prized historical monument sounds exactly like the kind of thing he'd do because _uh, it's not German, uh._

Yeah, buddy, well, neither are you, you gonna blow your own -?

*Hitler sticks Lugar in mouth*

Oooookay, I was being a smartass, but carry on.

Sigh.

The door stood closed. Shut. Firm. Imposing. Come on, Lise, it's been an hour, how long does this take? You're probably the smartest person alive right now, this should be a snap. Literally, I should snap my fingers and _I have completed the task at hand, male sibling, hark, for I return unto you your telecommunication device that now possesses the capabilities to transcend dimensional confines and broadcast, and receive, signals from other realities. Data rates may apply._ I bet Levi's already done on his end. Oooh, he should go tell her that - like his other sisters (and, yeah, him too), Lisa could be _preeeetty_ competitive. Implying that another genius was better than her would light a fire under her ass with atomic force - she'd have it to him yesterday...which, knowing her expressed interest in time travel, might actually be possible.

Lisa (or was it Levi?) said that there are an infinite number of realities and that each contains a version of themselves - wonder how different my other copies are. Like...is there one where I'm an abusive drunk to my kids? Or a Vietnam vet who owns a restaurant? Oh, maybe there's one where I'm married to Ronnie Anne and we have two kids, and another where my sisters beat me up for something incredibly minor because, hey, poor Lincoln, he's so abused and put upon. If there really _is_ an endless number of universes, there might actually be one where I'm the real Ace Savvy and Clyde is One Eyed Jack. Hmmm. There's probably even one where I'm an inanimate object. _Hey, guys, I'm a no bedroom apartment on the bus line in Brooklyn, pay 1,200 dollars a month to my owner and live in me._

It's creepy when you really sit down and think about it. So creepy that he'd rather torment himself with thoughts of Linka instead. Like the way her hand fit perfectly in his - it wasn't the same size, but smaller, yet somehow the exact right match; the warm smell of her shampoo; the way her eyes shone like candlelight.

His heart clenched forlornly.

Nevermind, I'll just think about being a soup ladle in another reality.

Putting his hands on his hips, he went to the door, turned, and stalked back to the desk. Anytime now, Lise, anytime; I wanna talk to Linka so bad it feels like my guts are being fed into a thresher. I wanna see her even more, but that's not in the cards for right now, but...you know what...when you come in here, I'm going to ask about it. _Hey, sis, can you and your little buddy in opposite world arrange a playdate for me and my gf? That'd be great._

It would take some doing on both ends, but there'd be chances to make it happen. Lisa and Levi might still be playing cat and mouse with each other and not really concerned with making the trip, but he and Linka were, so...as the saying goes, where there's a will there's a way.

Door, desk, door, desk, back and forth like a convict in a six-by-six concrete box. He was just turning to the go back to the desk when Lisa came in, and he whipped around almost like he'd been caught doing something wrong, his arm shooting out. "Phone, please," he blurted.

With nary a facial tic, Lisa slapped his hand away. "Calm down, Lincoln. I must first explain the basics of transdimensional communications."

Lincoln blinked. "Oh. Like...data rates?"

The little genius favored him with a blank stare. "Yes, Lincoln," she said with the faintest trace of sarcasm, "Bell Atlantic charges extra."

At least he _thought_ she was being sarcastic.

Sighing deeply, she said, "Coverage is excellent. You may use the transdimensional uplink on your phone virtually anywhere. The connection, however, is not reliable, and depends on various atmospheric factors such as solar emissions and lunar/solar reflection. The line will sound staticky, but not overly so. The TDTS machine, to which this is connected" - here she produced Lincoln's phone and shook it for emphasis - "overheats after roughly thirty minutes of continual use - phone calls, video chats, etc - and will automatically shut down. Please keep such calls under twenty minutes, as constantly shutting down and rebooting is harmful to the TDTS's circuit boards and will eventually fry them. You may send and receive texts and pictures but be advised that both may sometimes be lost to the ether. I don't know where they go - perhaps to another universe, or maybe nowhere at all - but if I were you, I'd think twice before taking compromising pictures of my genitalia and attaching them to a message."

Lincoln's jaw dropped. "Uh..I don't think I'll be doing that, so we're good."

"You also didn't think you'd be involved in a romantic relationship with your counterpart from an alternate reality," Lisa pointed out, "yet here you are."

Well...she wasn't wrong. They say "never say never" for a reason - you might not _think_ you'll do something, but you might just wind up doing it anyway. Taking a picture of his, ahem, thing though?

 _And getting a picture of Linka's thing in return. Don't forget about_ that.

Hmm...we'll cross the bridge when he come to it.

"Is that it?" he asked impatiently.

"Yes," Lisa said and held the phone out. "It buzzed as I was traversing the hallway - it's probably -"

Lincoln snatched the phone away and spun around to the face the desk, his thumb swiping across the screen. "Thanks, Lise, you're the best."

He did not see Lisa's satisfied smile. "You're welcome, Lincoln," she said. She turned and left, shutting the door behind her.

Standing by the desk, Lincoln smiled stupidly when he saw the word LINKA surrounded by hearts, and her message below: "Hiiiiiii!" Apparently Lisa input Linka's number already. Maybe it was because he was kind of emotional _(I can talk to Linka now!_ ), but he actually teared up a little. He'd have to thank her again sometime.

Not right now, though; right now was for Linka.

He dropped onto the edge of the mattress, swung his legs onto the bed, and settled back against his pillow like a boy preparing for a long day of talking to his girlfriend...which he kind of was. Right? He didn't know the finer details of relationship management, but he was pretty sure that for it to be 'official' both parties had to explicitly state that the other was their _xfriend_. Then again, that seemed kind of clunky. _Okay, you're my girlfriend now_. Sounded like something a kid would do.

 _You_ are _a kid._

Yeah, a kid who overthinks everything. And has issues.

Most likely, and right now my issue is wondering if Linka's my girlfriend even after we (A) had sex (B) told each other "I love you" and (C) she sent me an obviously giddy "Hi" text with six *squint* no five exclamation points. If that doesn't scream _I'm your girlfriend,_ brother, _nothing_ does.

He typed out a message and hit SEND. "Hi." He added a smiley face so that it didn't sound so dry, and to show her that he was happy to hear from her. She replied almost instantly with a smiley of her own - this one had big pink hearts bulging from its eye sockets. _Call me?_

Lincoln missed a beat. Of course he wanted to call her (that way he could hear her beautiful voice and have a more engaging conversation with her), but there was one little thing giving him pause: His sisters. If they somehow discovered he was talking to a girl (by barging into his room, maybe), they'd go nuts. Remember that sisternado shit I mentioned a while back? Yeah, I'd _really_ like to avoid that this time around, since Linka has to stay a secret: Lisa doesn't want the existence of the multiverse "getting out" plus...I mean...it'd be kind of hard to explain that I'm _with_ my opposite world girl-self. Kind of...embarrassing too. That's awful to say because Linka's wonderful, and beautiful, and warm, and friendly, and everything else good, but I'd look like some kind of weirdo. _You're in love with...and kissing on...and having sex with...basically you._ Yeah, that'd make for an awkward brother-sisters powwow.

Then again...it feels wrong to feel that way; you know, to be ashamed of Linka.

Nevermind, I really don't care on the _ew, you're a selfcest freak_ front. I still don't want my sisters meddling. But I don't want to not hear Linka's voice even more. Or less? I dunno, I confused even myself with that sentence.

Foregoing another text, Lincoln hit CALL and lifted the phone to his ear. It rang, and he noticed the static Lisa mentioned: It was very faint, like the distant hiss of rain on pavement, but being so used to crystal clear reception, it was really conspicuous.

One more ring, and the line clicked as Linka answered. "Hi!" she chirped. Her voice was lighter than he remembered, warmer, like an airy, soul-stirring breeze.

"Hey," he grinned and switched the phone from one hand to another, "it's really good to hear your voice."

She giggled. "Yours too. You sound so manly on the phone~"

That made Lincoln laugh. Well...that and being able to talk to her. "You sound beautiful."

"If you say so," she said.

"I do."

She giggled again and he laughed. Wow, I'm a goober...but a happy goober, so *middle finger.*

"How's it going in Bizarroworld?" she asked. There was a rustle as she, presumably, changed positions.

Lincoln shrugged one shoulder. "Eh. Alright, I guess. It's raining so we're all cooped up in the house."

"Oh, my God, it's been raining here since yesterday," she said and laughed, "my brothers are going to kill each other. When it rains out there, do you and your sisters hang out in the living room?"

Lincoln smiled. It was amazing how alike their families were. "Yeah," he said, "everyone kind of does their own thing, but in close proximity to each other."

"Umhm, same here," she said, "we just kind of...congregate, and every time, they start tearing each other apart. Unless I'm there. The moment I leave the room, though, it's like World War III."

Thunder rumbled and the window pane shook. Lincoln glanced over just as a flash of lightning brightened the glass. "Is it thundering there?" he asked curiously.

Linka thought for a second. "Hmmm, no, not right now. I don't know about earlier. I kind of wasn't paying attention." She sighed. "I was pretty sad about not having you around."

"Me too," Lincoln said, "I almost cried."

"I _did_ cry."

Lincoln's heart clutched and his lips creased in a frown.

"I'm all better now, though," she hastened to add. "Do you wanna play a game?"

The suddenness of her question made his head spin. "A game? What kind of game can we play on the phone?"

"Twenty questions," she said, "or kinda-sorta-like twenty questions."

"Sure," Lincoln said. It might be strange to say this about the girl he loved, but he really didn't know very much about her...at least not on a molecular level. That is, he knew the forest but not the individual trees. They were alike, but not the same, and that meant there was a lot of exploring to do. "Do you wanna start?"

"Yep," Linka said. "Have you ever had a girlfriend? Besides me?"

Wow, she just jumps right - wait a minute. Besides me? That makes us official. Maybe it was dumb, but even though he kind of knew already that they were girlfriend/boyfriend, hearing it out loud, from the lips of an angel, made him with giddy with excitement. I'm a terminal dork.

Anyway, what was the question again? Oh, right, girlfriend. "Uhhh...not really," he said at length, "there was a girl I liked, and she liked me, I think, but we never really progressed past, you know, hanging out and stuff, then she moved away."

"Was she Hispanic?"

Lincoln nodded. "Yeah. Her name was Ronnie Anne."

Linka laughed. "Oh, wow, that's funny. There was a boy named Ron I liked and we hung out a lot. I literally cannot imagine him as a girl. What was she like?"

Hmmm. Lincoln considered his response for a long time, static in one ear and low peals of thunder in the other. "She was...like...tough? Abrasive. Aggressive. That kind of thing. She kind of bullied me for a while."

"Bullied you?" Linka asked, something like concern in her voice.

"Yeah," he laughed, "yeah, she bullied me. Stuck a kick me sign on my back, shoved a sandwich down my pants - nothing major. I wasn't in fear for my life or anything, but it got real old, real quick. I told her to come by my house so I could give her a piece of my mind, and my sisters found out and went berserk. _Oh, she likes you, Lincoln, you should kiss her; instead of giving her a piece of your mind, give her a piece of your heart."_

On the other side of forever, Linka gagged. "Oh, gross, that's the mushiest thing I've ever heard."

"Yep," he agreed. "So...she came over...I kissed her...and she punched me in the face."

Linka gasped. "She did?"

"Yeah," Lincoln chuckled as he remembered the sensation of Ronnie Anne's knuckles saying hello to his eye, and the heart-dropping fall to the pavement. She hit hard, but not hard enough to really hurt him - he would have stayed standing if he was ready for it, you know? But he wasn't - he expected a kiss in return but got wailed on instead. "I mean, in hindsight, walking up to a girl and kissing her probably wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done. I got caught up in listening to my sisters."

A horrible thought occurred to him then. "Uh, that Ron guy...he didn't punch _you_ , did he?"

Linka laughed. "No," she said, "he didn't. He didn't really bully me either. He used to sit behind me in math class and he'd flick my hair. Everyday. I'd tell him to stop and he'd pretend it wasn't him even though it was super clear that it was. Finally, I blew up on him one day." She giggled. "Later on, when I was getting my books out of my locker, he came up and apologized, and we started hanging out. Did you ever kiss her?"

Jeez, you're going to give me whiplash with how fast you go from one line of thought to another. "Yeah," Lincoln said, "I kissed her on the lips once. Not with...you know...not with tongue or anything." Suddenly he was really uncomfortable; talking with your girlfriend about girls you liked in the past? Awwwwwkward.

Linka hummed. "I kissed Ron on the cheek once. That was more like a friendly kiss, though. Who's your best friend? He's black, isn't he?"

"Yes," Lincoln said, "his name is Clyde and he has -"

"- two dads. Claudia, my best friend, has two moms. Wow, it's so strange how everything's so different but not at the same time."

Lincoln opened his mouth to reply, then an idea struck him. "Uh...your mom and dad. What do they look like?"

Since genders were swapped in opposite world, it stood to reason her mom would look like his dad and his dad would look like her mom. Or...I just confused myself again. You know what I mean.

"Oooh, I see what you're thinking," Linka said. "My dad's kind of...uh...overweight and has blonde hair and my mom's skinny with brown hair. What about your parents?"

"Other way around," he said, his mind reeling. Then another idea came. "Is Jesus a man in your world?"

"Yep. Is he in yours too?"

Thunder, farther away as the storm moved over town. The rain slackened, and long rivers sluiced down the window. "Yeah," Lincoln said.

"Strange."

Yeah, actually, it was. "What's your favorite book?" he asked.

"Pride and Prejudice," she said instantly, "I _love_ that book. I also really like A Tale of Two Cities, but not as much. You really like video games, right? Which one's your favorite?"

Now, that was a hard question to answer - his favorite _anything_ tended to change. One day his favorite game would be Pac-Man, the next it would be Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. Two very, very different playing experiences...which is why he tended to create mental subcategories. FAVORITE EIGHTIES GAME; FAVORITE FIRST PERSON SHOOTER; etc, which further complicated matters. "I don't know, that's a tough one," he said, "I like old games a lot."

"Me too! I have a bunch on my phone. Like Pac-Man and stuff. I'm not very good, though. I get to level five and the ghosts gang up on me. Pout."

Lincoln was surprised into laughter. "Did you really just vocalize a facial expression?"

"Yep. Why not? Lars is always saying 'sigh.'"

Lincoln rolled his eyes. "Lucy does the same thing. I-I don't get it."

"Neither do I. It feels so -"

"Contrived."

"Exactly. Like he's -"

"Exaggerating."

"Yep! He's kind of a drama queen. I don't wanna sound mean, but he's like a walking soap opera sometimes. I feel really bad for him because Luke and Loki are always picking on him, though. I mean, they go pretty hard."

Lincoln switched the phone to his other hand. It was really warm. How long had they been talking? Certainly not twenty minutes, so they were good...for now. "Your brothers sound like a joy."

"Eh. They're not bad. It's just how they are. Your sisters aren't like that, are they?"

"No. They _do_ like to tease each other...and me. Like, during breakfast, every morning, everyone dog piles on one of us." He chuckled at the memory of morning roasts past: The time his sisters made fun of his, uh, penis size; the time Lisa got so mad she turned red, shook, and threatened to _unleash a plague on your asses_ ; Luan stalking out because Lynn said she had a mouth like _The Texas Chainsaw Massacre_. "It can get pretty savage, I guess."

Linka giggled. "My brothers do that. The other day, I guess Loki was making fun of Lexx and calling him...the F word...that rhymes with bag...and I walked in just as Lexx threw his pancakes in Loki's face."

Lincoln snorted. "Wow. How'd he take _that_?"

"Well," Linka said, "he called him a little...a little shit and reached across the table, but Lexx got away. He's _fast_ , but you have to be around here, I guess." She laughed. "Never a dull moment."

Taking the phone away from his ear, Lincoln looked at the screen. He and Linka had been talking for ten minutes and twenty-nine seconds. Sweet, they still had ten minutes left. "When's your birthday?" Lincoln asked. "Mine's July 12th."

"So's mine!"

Wow. "That's kind of cool. We can have joint parties."

Linka gasped. "That's a good idea. We'd better do it in your world, though - your sisters haven't gotten you kicked out of every party spot in town, right?"

"No," Lincoln said and furrowed his brow, "like...the bowling alley and stuff?"

"Umhm. My brothers and their constant horseplay has earned us a hard ban from _everywhere_ except The Pizza Dungeon, and that's because you'd, like, have to shoot the place up before they ban you."

Lincoln sighed. "You have that place there too?"

"Yep," she said. From her tone, Lincoln could tell that she didn't like that place anymore than he did, and why would she? It stank: It was a low rent Chuck E Cheese knockoff filled with games that sucked, pizza that was marginally better than the kind you get at a gas station, and the mascot...ugh. "Dinette is the worst."

Dinette? Oh, right, gender-swap. "Here his name is Dino and he does this dumb gangster rapper routine."

"In _normal_ world, she's like...I don't wanna sound racist...but, like, a big, sassy black woman. And she's pink. With a weav."

"Oh, jeez."

She laughed. "I know. She's ridiculous. She also hits all the guys. Like, we went there for...I think it was Lane's birthday but it might have been Luke's...and while me and Loni were playing skee ball, she came up -" she laughed again. "Oh, my God. She came up and said to him _Your name should be Campbells 'cause you are mmm-mm good._ "

She giggled so hard she gasped for air, and Lincoln smiled. He'd never heard a more beautiful sound in his life, and if he could, he'd listen to it all day as though it were a cherished melody. "Poor Loni was so confused."

"Dino did something like that to Lori," he said. "We were sitting at the table and he comes up. ' _Cuse me, girl, are you a magician? 'Cause abraca-damn._ "

"Oh, my God," Linka laughed, "that's funny. That place is wreck, though. Do you have Flip's? God, tell me you have Flip's."

"Yeah, we do. That guy's a real...jerk." He _was_ going to say 'asshole' but pulled back at the last minute.

Linka hummed in agreement. "Obviously she's a woman here. A big, fat, mean, cheap, lazy woman. Me and Claudia worked for him for a while, and it was not fun."

"Me and Clyde worked for Flip," Lincoln said. "I swear, there was stuff in there that expired -"

"- twenty years ago."

"Yes. It's like, really? How have you not been shut down yet?"

"Oh, I know how she hasn't been shut down," Linka said confidently, "she bribes the health inspector."

Lincoln lifted his brow. "She does?"

"Yep. I saw her do it."

"I wonder if my Flip does the same thing."

"Probbly," Linka said. "If he's as bad as his normal world self."

Lincoln snickered. "You mean opposite world."

"Nope," Linka replied. "I am one hundred percent confident that mine is the real world and yours is just a reflection." There was a jocular tilt to her voice. "Shadow boy."

Static crashed across the line like a storm surge on rocks, and Lincoln snorted. "I think you're mistaken," he said. "My world is the real world, your world is a deleted scene on the DVD we call life."

Linka laughed deeply. "Wow, that was _deep_ , shads. I didn't know a copy+paste could philosophise."

"That's right, me-in-drag, I'm pretty smart."

"Oh, really?" she drew.

"Yep."

The line was quiet for a second. "You're also really hot."

A blush spread across Lincoln's face, and he bowed his head demurely as if to hide his embarrassment from Linka...even though she couldn't see him. Maybe it wasn't actually embarrassment, but...being called hot by a pretty girl...man, that's all kinds of cool, awesome, awkward, and everything else. _She thinks you're hot, dude...keep doing what you're doing AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON'T DO ANYTHING TO SHATTER THE ILLUSION!_ Or _delusion_ since he didn't think he was 'hot' (cute, at best). "You're really hot too," he said, not liking the shy inflection in his voice.

Linka giggled. "I disagree, but you certainly make me _feel_ hot, so I'll take it. I _really_ miss you."

"I miss you too."

"I was thinking of talking to Levi and seeing when we could come out there again. Or if you could come here. I know it's hard to make time and all, but I had an idea literally two seconds ago."

Lincoln shifted his butt. "Because you're smart. What is it?"

"Wellll," she said, "it's a teleporter, right? Levi says if you input the wrong cocondincenes you'll wind up at the bottom of the ocean or something, which means -"

Understanding dawned on him. "It can go anywhere."

"Yep," she said, "we can, like, meet somewhere that _isn't_ your house. Or my house. How do you feel about the park?

Lincoln lifted one shoulder. "I can park."

"But can you _parallel_ park?"

Groan.

"Sorry, I've been hanging around with Lane too much. But yeah, that'd be easier, wouldn't it?"

Lincoln thought for a moment. Yeah, as far as he could tell, it _would_ be...though they'd have to pick somewhere fairly isolated so that no one saw the teleporter arrive and depart.

"...somewhere out of the way so that no one sees the teleporter come and go," Linka was saying, and Lincoln grinned at the synchronicity of their thought process. "There's a spot -"

"- overlooking the river."

" - that's pretty secluded. You have it there, too?"

He did. Ridgewood Park was a vast expanse of hilly woodland spread out on either bank of the Royal River and crisscrossed with trails. There was a certain hill off a certain path that was flat on top and surrounded on by trees on three sides and the river (and the trees crowding against the far shore) on the fourth. He stumbled across it after getting lost in the woods - Lynn and her gal pals needed an extra player for a football game, and he said _oh, hell no_ and dipped; the last thing he wanted to do with his Saturday was get tackled by a bunch of female jocks. They hit harder than the boys because they have something to prove. "Yeah," he said, and explained how he found it.

Linka laughed. "You know what's funny? Over here it was Lars who got drafted to play and ran. Me and my brothers beat down the whole forest looking for him then followed the sighs." She giggled and Lincoln couldn't tell if she was joking or not, but he didn't care - he just liked listening to her. "I'm sure we can talk Lisa and Levi into it. I mean -"

"- they like each other."

" - and they're both too weird to make a move. We should get them to profess their love for one another. We can be their wings persons."

That wasn't a bad idea - he knew Lisa liked Levi...she just thought having a relationship with him (beyond video conferences and light flirting) wasn't feasible. She wasn't wrong in that loving someone you couldn't see very often was hard, but despite the past two torturous days, Lincoln wouldn't trade Linka for anything. "Sure," he said, "I'll talk to her and you talk to him."

The phone was hotter now, heat flowing into his hand and up his arm. He looked at the screen. 17:18.

"I think we should probably get off soon," Linka sighed. "My phone's getting really hot and Levi said we have to keep calls under twenty minutes."

Lincoln blew a mournful puff of air. "Yeah, Lisa said the same." He didn't _want_ to get off, though; he wanted to talk to her forever and ever.

"I don't wanna, though," she said with a pout, "I wanna talk to you forever and ever."

Lincoln smiled. He couldn't see her, but he could picture her sitting on the middle of her bed, like him, with a sullen expression on her face - and she was so cute his heart ached. "Neither do I, but if we don't the TSDD machine or whatever will break and we won't' be able to talk at all."

"I know," Linka sighed. She didn't speak for a long moment, and Lincoln was just beginning to think the call had been dropped when she said, "I love you, Lincoln."

No three words had ever sounded sweeter, and none had ever made his chest swell with such a strong feeling of warm, tingling goodness. A goofy grin broke across his lips. "I love you too, Linka."

She hummed contentedly. "I better get off now because if I don't I'll _never_ do it. You hang up first."

"No, _you_ hang up first," Lincoln teased, "sugar-boo-boo-bear."

Linka laughed so hard it sounded like she cried. "Ew, gross, you did _not_ just say that! You sound like Loki."

"Lori does it too," he snickered, "it's awful."

"Isn't it? Like...I'm not against love and affection or pet names or whatever, but that's just _gag._ Luke and Lexx tease him _mercilessly_ for it too, and to be honest….he totally deserves it." She giggled. "That's what you _get,_ sap."

"It's funny because Lori's so...I dunno...uptight, but as soon as she talks to Bobby, she's like a gushy little girl."

Linka hummed. "When I was in a bad mood once - that's what I call being on my period - I told him he acted like a bigger girl than me and everyone laughed him out of the house. I felt so bad."

The phone was really hot now.

"I have to go," Linka sighed. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"I'll text you later."

"Okay," Lincoln grinned.

Neither of them moved to end the call.

"On three?" Linka asked.

"Okay. One…"

"Two…"

"Three," they said together, and hit END

Alone now, Lincoln dropped the phone into his lap and drew a heavy sigh. He was sad because they had to hang up, but still flush with happiness because he got to hear her voice. Also excited about the prospect of seeing her soon.

Getting up, he went out into the hall; it stood empty as a tomb on Judgement Day, but sounds of life wafted up the stairs. The TV. Lola and Lana bickering. Luna singing along to a song on the radio _very_ offkey (she was a good guitarist, but a lousy vocalist). He crossed to Lisa's door and knocked, waited, then knocked again. When he didn't get an answer, he turned the knob and poked his head in.

Empty.

She was probably downstairs...which meant he'd have to wait to get her alone. He sighed and closed the door. Whatever - talking to her now vs later wouldn't make much of a difference. The earliest possible time they could do it would be tomorrow (that was really short notice, so it probably wouldn't happen).

Yeah...he was still bursting with impatience though.

Downstairs, everyone was where he'd left them, and when he dropped into the armchair, they all looked at him - with the exception of Lisa. Do I have something in my teeth?

Then he remembered.

He kind of ran outta here like a bitch earlier.

"Hey, guys," he said easily to show them that he was okay and not on the rag. "Lovely day."

Lori lifted her brow. "Right. You feeling better?"

"Yep," he said and snatched his comic off the floor, where it landed after he dropped it. "No one picked up my book, though?" he asked archly. "Nice."

"Oh, can it, Lincoln," Lori said with a roll of the eyes.

"Yeah," Lynn said, "we're not your maids."

"You're _mine,_ " Lola corrected from her spot in front of the coffee table.

Lori clucked her tongue. "Keep dreaming."

And _that,_ my friends, is how you get your sisters to shift their focus off of you.

Across the multiverse, Linka knocked on Levi's door, and when he didn't answer, she peeked in. Nothing. Hm. Guess I'll have to wait. Not that asking now will make _too_ much of a difference, still, I don't like suspense. Unless it's in a good book.

Sighing, she went down the steps and crossed to the armchair, all of her brothers turning to look at her as she sat, even Lane and Lars, who'd come back out of hiding while she was gone; they sat shoved up between Loni and the arm like sardines in a tin. Is something wrong with my hair?

That's when it occurred to her that she flew out of here in tears a little while ago.

"Hey, Link," Luke hesitated, "you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, "I was just in a bad mood."

Like she told Lincoln, that was her code word for _I'm on my period._ She used it because it was better than coming outright and saying _I'm bleeding from my privates._ It might be natural, but so's pooping, and unless you're Leif, no one really wants to hear about your bowel movements.

"You sure?" Loki asked worriedly.

Linka picked her book up and opened it. "Yep. All better now."

"You're absolutely sure?" Luke pressed.

Sigh. Yes, I'm absolutely sure, not that you're going to listen and leave me alone.

She had to think quick and get the heat off. She looked around, and her eyes landed on Lane, who smiled encouragingly. I _am_ on my 'period' after all, so...please forgive me, Lane, I'm so sorry. "Yep. I like your suspenders, Lane."

"Thanks," he said proudly.

"When's the pride parade?"

His face fell, and everyone laughed mean-spiritedly. "Yeah, homo," Loni said, "when's the parade?" He nudged Lane's arm with his elbow.

"And who's your date?" Lexx asked. "Benny?"

Luke snorted. "You. You're a bigger fag than he is."

And that, as mean as it is, is how you get your brothers to stop worrying about you.

Sorry, Lane.


	7. The Hardest Part

It was after dinner before Lisa finally trudged up the stairs and went into her room - Lincoln had been watching her like a hawk for hours and by the time she took her leave, he was crackling with nervous energy and seriously considering dragging her off like a caveman. He gave it a few long, tense moments before going after her; he didn't even bother knocking on the door.

"Linka and I had an idea," he said as he barged in. Lisa was sitting at her computer with her back to him and her shoulders slumped, fingers hovering inches above the keyboard like she was just about to start typing. She reminded Lincoln for some reason of the Phantom of the Opera.

"What's that?" she asked without turning.

Leaning against the door, Lincoln glanced at her teleporter - it stood in a corner covered by a heavy white sheet of canvas. "We were thinking we could meet soon...outside of the house. Since the teleporter can go -"

"No," Lisa said.

Lincoln blinked. "What?"

She turned and looked at him. "That's too risky, I'm sorry. This machine, and the multiverse itself, must remain a secret, and teleporting willy-nilly in public is _not_ how you go about keeping a secret."

"But we won't be teleporting willy-nilly," Lincoln argued, his chest tightening at the prospect of Lisa not letting him and Linka see each other. "There's a secluded spot at the park -"

"Lincoln, it's a public park in the middle of a fairly populous area. Privacy is _not_ assured." She whipped her glasses off as if for dramatic effect. "I'm sorry. Levi and I had considered the same, but it's just not a risk we're willing to take."

He opened his mouth to protest further, but she held up a stalling hand. "No," she repeated. "I understand you wish to see Linka as soon as possible, and you will eventually see her, but you have to have patience, Lincoln." She furrowed her brows in sympathy and drew a deep breath at the obvious hurt in his face. It had to show, because he sure as hell felt it.

"I understand," he said finally, and he did, but that didn't mean he was happy about it. Feeling drained of life and as though the future held only ashes, he turned, opened the door, and went out into the hall.

In Linka's world, she followed Levi up the stairs (giving him a minute or two lead). At the top, she met Lane, whose angled slightly down when he saw her. For a second she was taken aback by the coldness in his eyes, then she remembered what she said about his suspenders and felt a sharp twinge of guilt. "Excuse me," he said tightly and started to pass, but stopped and rolled his eyes when she spoke.

"Lane, I'm sorry for what I said. I was just in a bad mood."

For a moment, he seemed to consider her words...then brushed past her and went down the stairs. Linka looked after him with a heavy heart and sadness in her eyes. I _really_ shouldn't have said that - they picked on him for a whole hour afterwards.

She'd be mad at her too.

Should she go after him? Try to apologize again? Or should she give him space? She knew her brothers pretty well, but Lane's personality was a little different. When Luke was mad, he needed to be alone; when Lars was mad, he needed to vent and someone to talk to; Leif usually just needed a hug; and with Loni, you just had to make him laugh or do something sweet for him, and he'd totally forget about it. Lane was back and forth: Sometimes you could get him to open up, other times he was a clam and wanted nothing to do with you until he cooled off. He was good-natured and never stayed mad for too long, but still...and he _never_ teased Linka, even when she deserved it. He was always a good brother.

Now she felt _really_ bad.

Sighing, she continued about her business, knocking on Levi's door and going in when he called out. He sat in his swivel chair facing her, a bag of gummy bears in one hand and the other to his mouth, his cheeks bulging like a cute, bespectacled chipmunk. "What's the matter?" he asked, spraying bits onto his lap, "you look upset."

"It's Lane," she said and leaned one shoulder against the frame.

Levi nodded in understanding. "Ah, yes, the jab you made at his suspenders. Obviously your way of deflecting attention from yourself."

"Yeah," she said.

"That's not why you're here, though, is it?" he asked pointedly and swallowed.

Linka shook her head. "No. I had an idea. About seeing Lincoln."

The little boy reached into the bag and shoved another handful of candy into his mouth, both of his brows lifting as if to say _go on._ Linka took a deep, steadying breath. "Well, I was thinking, the main problem is us finding time when no one else is around."

Levi nodded. "Correct."

"Why can't we take the teleporter somewhere else? Like instead of using it to go to Lincoln's house, we use it to go to the park and meet Lincoln there."

Blank stare.

Linka squirmed. Oh...not such a good idea?

Swallowing, Levi leaned forward, his arms coming to rest on his knees, and Linka suddenly felt like a little girl who was going to be told a hard fact of life by a caring older relative. "Linka," he started patiently, "we can't do that. You know that the teleporter, and the multiverse, has to remain a secret...at least for now."

"But there's this spot at the park…"

"That is not secluded enough. It is a public recreational area and accessible by anyone. People walk the trails and hike through the woods. The risk of someone seeing us come or go is too great. Lisa and I discussed the matter ourselves and decided that the risk wasn't worth taking." He frowned when Linka hung her head and sighed sadly. "I know you want to see Lincoln. Being apart from the one you care about is hard; it's hard for me, but I imagine it's doubly hard for you."

Linka nodded slowly. "I guess." Her voice was barely above a whisper. She looked up at Levi and debated whether to bring up Lisa. "But...I really like him, and it's worth it."

Levi's expression was stoic and unchanging.

"Just knowing he's out there and he's mine.." a glowing smile spread across her face and she breathed a dreamy sigh. It was like...being filled with warm spring sunshine, and she could imagine shafts of it shining through every pore in her body like a Linka disco ball. "It's _so_ worth it."

Humming disinterestedly, Levi sat back. Linka was almost certain he knew she was trying to push him toward making a move on Lisa even though _she_ thought she was being subtle. He was a genius, after all; you know how they say _you gotta get up pretty early in the morning to fool me?_ Well, to fool Levi you had to stay up all night. "I suppose," he said.

"It really is," she pressed, and smiled genuinely. "I'm sad, but really happy too." She frowned. "It's actually kind of strange." She shook her head. "When can I see him again?"

Levi spread his hands. "I don't know. That's up to circumstance. I _could_ try and contrive to get the others out of the house one day this week, but I can't promise anything."

'Getting everyone out of the house' was harder than you might think, but not impossible. All of the boys liked playing football at the park (more or less - except for Lexx and Lars, they _hated_ it), so maybe she could somehow 'encourage' them to go scrape up a game.

Sigh. That probably wouldn't happen.

"Alright," she said heavily, "thank you."

Levi flashed a wan smile. "I _am_ sorry."

Yeah, Linka thought, me too.

In her room, she kicked off her shoes, peeled her socks off, and dropped them into the hamper beside the dresser. She climbed onto the bed, crossed her legs, and leaned back against the headboard with a deep sigh. Lincoln probably got the same reaction from Lisa, so _that_ idea was out the window. Ugh, this is so dumb. He's literally a two minute teleporter ride away, yet he might as well have been on the dark side of the moon.

Not really - if he _was_ on the dark side of the moon, she could at least borrow Levi's telescope and see roundabout where he was.

Taking her phone out of her skirt pocket, she swiped her thumb across the screen and shot Lincoln a text. _Levi said no :(_

She sat it on her lap and blinked against a rush of tears. She'd never felt such strange (and strong) emotions in her life, and she was starting to get really sick of them affecting her this way. She wasn't usually prone to crying and moping around - what good has crying ever done anyone? - but now that's all she did, it had only been two days!

On the flip side, she wasn't used to being so happy: She felt like a giddy, bouncy little girl and it was nice...better than that awful horniness.

Though, to be honest, she could _really_ go for a little R and R with Lincoln about now, and by _little_ she meant _a lot_. Like...shower sex sounded _sooo_ hot, and so did using blindfolds and stuff like in _Fifty Shades of Grey._ Don't tell Mom or Dad, but she read all of those books and they turned her on like crazy - though some of the stuff was a little much.

Was it strange that she wanted to have sex with Lincoln in her bed so that his smell would linger on her sheets and pillow long after he was gone?

Also...was it strange that last night she slept with his underwear next to her? And before you ask, no, she was _not_ sniffing them before she drifted off...much. Okay, she totally was, but it wasn't _all_ sexual. Yeah, she could smell his _scent_ but she could also smell _him_ , that warm, comforting, intoxicating, yumtastic aroma his body naturally exuded. Ummm, she _loved_ that. If she could bottle it up and huff it like a junkie she would.

God, I'm so weird.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Lincoln. _So did Lisa._

No surprise there. _Levi said he's going to try to get everyone out of the house this week so keep your fingers crossed._ She stopped, considered, then added, _shadow boy ;)_

Wait a tick - that's my first pet name for him! Awww.

Actually...I'm turning into Loki. *Gag*

 _I will. I really wanna see you._

She smiled. Like she told Levi, knowing that Lincoln was out there, and that he was _hers..._ and that he felt the same way she did...was pretty flipping awesome. _I wanna see you too._ She bit her bottom lip - should I get frisky? _And kiss you._ There. I'll start small.

 _Me too,_ Lincoln said, _and hold your hand._

Awww. That made her heart melt...but she was kind of hoping he'd up the ante. Guess he needs more prompting. He _is_ kind of shy.

 _I can't wait to hold something else of yours._

She hit SEND and smirked. There you go, shadow boy. Let's see what you have to say to _that_.

A few seconds later, he came back with: _With your mouth?_

Linka burst out laughing. Well, he certainly upped the ante, but she was the queen of not being one-upped, so... _No, with my pussy._

 _If you were here right now, I'd let you hold it anyway you wanted._

 _Even on a leash?_

A minute later. _Well, I'm not into bondage, but I_ am _into you, so if that's what you want…._

 _Not really. I just want you here. In my bed. Naked._

An idea came to her, and her face flushed. Levi warned her that texts and pics might get _lost in the great wide yonder and I wouldn't send anything too provocative if I were you_ buuuut...she kind of wanted to send Lincoln a sexy picture. See, she wanted one of him so it was only fair he get one too. Not _too_ sexy, though; Lincoln wasn't a scumbag and wouldn't show his buddies or anything, but someone might get ahold of his phone and see. She might have dirty thoughts (and like doing dirty things), but she wasn't an exhabitionist and didn't like the idea of random people seeing her body - she may have once thought it was hot, but there was no real possibility of it then; there was now.

Hmmm, should she do it?

She thought for a minute, then decided what the hey. You only live once.

Getting onto her knees, she undid the top two buttons of her blouse and pulled it slightly down one shoulder. She bit one lip, lidded her eyes to seductive slits, and touched the index finger of her left hand to her chin. Pouting, she held the phone up, aimed the camera at her face, and pressed the button on the side. She turned the phone around and looked at the screen. Oh, wow, I look like a dweeb. But kind of a cute dweeb, and Lincoln will like it; I know _I'd_ like any pic he sent me.

She sat on her butt, crossed her legs, and attached the photo to a message: _Wish you were here._ She sent it and waited _very_ impatiently for a reply. When she didn't get one, she started to worry. _Your turn._

Still nothing.

Faint dread stirred in her chest. I didn't scare him off, did I?

Nothing.

Maybe one of his sisters is bugging him or something.

Nothing.

Or he had to pee.

Nothing.

Or -

Her phone buzzed, and she snatched it up as though it were a bomb that would blow if she didn't defuse it _right the frick now._ She swiped the screen, and when she saw what Lincoln sent her, she laughed so hard she bowed her head and cried.

It was an exact replica of her own pic: He was on his knees with his finger on his chin and the collar of his orange polo shirt pulled to one side, revealing smooth, creamy shoulder flesh. Every time she looked at it, she laughed harder, tears streaming down her face. When she finally recovered, she sent him a text. _LMAO! I love you. You're such a dork._

A minute later. _I love you too. I took like six of those just to get it right. I hope you like it._

 _I love it. How's it going in Bizarroworld tonight?_

 _Okay. The rain stopped. Maybe I can actually leave the house tomorrow._

 _That's good. Going to see your other girlfriends?_ She was joking, but he _was_ pretty great, so she could certainly see other girls wanting him. Sorry, thots, he's _mine_.

 _Nope. Just Clyde._

 _Yeah, I might hang out with Claudia. Does Clyde have a huge crush on any of your sisters?_

 _God, yes, Lori. I love the guy, but it's pretty creepy._

Linka snickered. _Claudia really likes Luke. I wouldn't say it's creepy, just kind of sad because she's very much into him and he couldn't care less that she exists._

 _Does he know that she likes him?_

 _No, but, I mean, it's kind of obvious with the way she sighs and stares at him when he's around. She's like a little puppy dog or something._

 _Lori knows Clyde likes her - she just ignores him. I can't blame her. If I'm bad with the ladies, he's ten times worse._

That last one took Linka aback. _Bad with the ladies? You're the smoothest and cutest guy ever, you can't be bad with the ladies._

 _I mean the ladies in the real world, not opposite land._

Linka laughed. _You're cheeky. That's British for doofus._

 _No it's not. I know; Luna has an unhealthy obsession with British stuff._

You're _an unhealthy obsession with British stuff :P_

 _You make no sense._

 _I know._

He didn't reply for a long time, but she didn't worry this time because why would she? Lincoln was great and he loved her just as much as she loved him. I really have to stop second guessing the guy. It's kind of disrespectful. Finally, he came back with, _Sorry, gotta go. My sisters are bugging me._

 _Okay. I love you. Sleep good 3_

 _You too. :)_

She waited to see if he was going to follow up, and when it became clear that he wasn't, she sat the phone on the nightstand and stretched her legs out in front of her in a V. Despite having her hopes dashed to pieces by Levi (more like Dumbvi, amirite?) she felt good, like her chest with filled with a thousand lightning bugs. She kind of wanted to lay down and let it lull her to sleep, but she needed a shower...and to brush her hair: If she didn't, it would get knotted and she _hated_ when that happened because getting it _un_ knotted hurt like heck.

Curse of being a girl. Sometimes she seriously considered shaving it all off like that woman who ripped up the Pope's picture years ago, but she didn't think that'd be a very good look on her. Some girls might be able to pull it off, but not Linka Loud. Then again, Lincoln was the cutest/hottest/dreamiest thing ever, so maybe she _could_ pull it off.

I better get up and get in the shower.

Exhaling heavily, she got up, grabbed her towel and a white nightgown, and went into the hall, jumping back with a cry of alarm when Lynn slammed back-first into the wall flanking the door - Leif stood by the bathroom, a guilty expression on his face. "Sorry, Link," Lynn said sheepishly. Her eyes went to the football in his hands and she sighed.

"You're not supposed to be doing that in the house," she said sternly.

"But it's raining outside."

Oh, is it? I hadn't noticed. "I know. You can't play football in the rain?"

"Mom and Dad won't let me...not after last time."

Four months ago, Lynn, Luke, and Loki were playing football in the backyard during a rainstorm. Lynn was running the ball when he slipped on mud and snapped his ankle. Dad forbid him from _sports activities in inclimate weather_ (his words exactly), and ever since, Lynn passed every single rainy day in a state of restlessness like a drug addict waiting on his dealer to get back from vacation.

"Too bad," she said, "if you want to play sports in the house, choose something that won't smash a window. Where's your hacky-sack?"

Looking shamefaced down at his feet like a scolded dog, he shrugged. "I dunno," he mumbled.

She knew that look. He was hiding something. She crossed her arms and lifted her brow. "Where is it?" she pressed.

"In my room somewhere," he said, "lost."

She understood totally - his room was a pigsty again and his hacky-sack was missing amidst the mess.

Why are boys such slobs? Linka kept her room neat and tidy, and it didn't even take that much effort. Her brothers, on the other hand, lived in perpetual filth. The cleanest one was Loki, but even he had a bad habit of leaving dirty clothes strewn across the floor until his room stank to high heaven. She, Mom, and Dad kept on their butts about picking up, but like a wise word to a stubborn man, it went in one ear and out the other.

"Maybe if you cleaned your room, you'd find your hacky-sack."

Lynn shrugged again.

"At any rate, no ball in the house. Remember the time you broke the vase and Mom and Dad took all your balls away for a month?. Do you want that to happen again?"

Lynn shook his head. "No."

"Then don't play ball in the house." She turned to admonish Leif next, but he was gone and the hall stood empty. Sneaked away while he had the chance. "You should go pick your room up instead."

"Okay," he said, and, like a shot, he was gone. Whether or not he'd actually do as she asked of him was doubtful, but at least she diffused the football situation, so she'd chalk that up as a win.

In the bathroom, she draped her towel over the shower rod, unbuttoned her blouse, tossed it aside, and then her skirt. In her underwear, she crossed to the tub, turned the water on, adjusted the temperature, then stripped and got in.

Because there were so many people in her family, showers were limited to five minutes apiece. They _were_ two minutes and fifty seconds until her and her brothers got sick of it and rioted, Not literally, they just refused to do their chores. Anyway, because of this, Linka was the fastest gun in the west when it came to bathring: She ducked her hair under the spray, wetted it, then squeezed shampoo into her hand and massaged it into her scalp. Next, she lathered her loofa, hit all the important areas on a girl's body that require daily maintenance (armpits, boobies, between the legs, butt) then rinsed.

As she worked, her thoughts inevitably drifted to Lincoln and their conundrum. Hopefully Levi was serious about conning everyone out of the house, and hopefully it worked otherwise _she'd_ have to come up with a plan. She was good at strategizing, don't get her wrong, but sometimes her plans backfired spectacularly, and this was one time that a plan absolutely could _not_ fall apart. Getting Mom and Dad out of the house was cake - they both worked, the others, though, weren't as easy. Oh, they had lives and friends and didn't sit around the house 24/7, but rarely did they all go out _at the same time._

Sigh. Curse of having a large family.

Done, she cut the water, toweled off, and got out, the cold air raking her flesh with goosebumps. She got into her gown and went back to her room, pausing at Lynn and Lars' door - the floor was piled with junk, trash, and clothes, Lynn standing in the middle with his hands on his hips and a stricken expression on her face. Lars sat on the edge of hs bed, hands planted on either side of him. "I didn't take your dumb hacky-sack," he deadpanned. "What would I want with one of those anyway?"

"I don't know," Lynn said, a note of accusation in his voice, "but it's not here." He turned and went over to Lars, pulling open his nightstand drawer.

Growling, Lars pushed him away. "Get out of my stuff."

"Don't touch me, Dorkula," Lynn flashed.

"Don't touch my things."

Lynn took a menacing step forward, and Lars shot out his foot, catching the older boy in the crotch and making Linka wince. Lynn's eyes widened and he dropped to his knees with a pained gasp, his hands flying to his wounded crotch.

"Lars!" Linka cried, and the younger boy jumped. Scowling, she went over to Lynn and knelt next to him, her hand going to his shoulder. "Are you okay?" she asked worriedly.

Head down, teeth clenched, Lynn shook his head. "He hit me in the nuts," he said. He looked up at Lars. "You're a dead man," he hissed.

"I'm already dead," Lars said flatly.

"Lars, shut up," Linka said, then to Lynn, "go lie down and forget about him. You shouldn't have been rifling through his stuff. He told you he didn't have your hacky-sack."

"But -"

"No buts." She helped him to his feet and guided him to his bed, stepping over and weaving between piles of stuff; he walked like an old man, bent, limping, sucking gasps of breath through his teeth. Linka didn't have testicles so she had no idea how it felt to be kicked in them, but from what she'd seen over the years, it looked _very_ painful, and she felt awful for him. He _did_ kind of bring it on himself, though.

I swear, sometimes all you can do is throw up your hands.

Being careful not to hurt him further, Linka sat him down and patted his knee with a frown; his face was screwed up in pain and sweat stood on his forehead. "You okay?" she asked.

He nodded. "I'm fine," he said thickly.

She shot Lars a dirty look over her shoulder, and Lars flinched ever so slightly. "You could have _really_ hurt him. What were you thinking?"

Lars favored her with a blank stare. "That I wanted to really hurt him."

*Eyeroll* "Seriously?"

Lars shrugged.

"He's your brother. I get that he gets on your nerves, but you don't _really hurt_ your brother like that. You should have kicked him in the shin."

Lynn gaped. "Linka!"

"Better than where he _did_ kick you."

For a moment Lars regarded her, then sighed. "I guess maybe kicking him in the balls _was_ a little much."

Linka nodded. "Umhm. Now apologize."

Lars hung his head.

"Do it."

He sighed. "Sorry I kicked you in the nuts."

"Good," Linka said, then turned expectantly to Lynn. "Your turn."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Uhh...sorry you kicked me in the nuts, too."

*Eyeroll x 2* "No," Linka said patiently, "apologize for rifling through his stuff."

Lynn sighed and hung his head, looking so much like Lars that it would have been comical under other circumstances. All of her brothers were so different, yet they were fundamentally the same, whether they liked to admit it or not. "Sorry I rifled through your stuff," he grumbled.

"Good," Linka said, looking from one to the other - neither seemed happy with the situation. "Can I go back to my room now and not have to worry about you two killing each other?"

"Yes," they both mumbled.

She didn't particularly believe them, but she'd just have to take them at their word.

*Crosses self and hopes for the best*

* * *

Lincoln Loud restlessly paced through the house, his hands on his hips and a frown on his lips. Nerves slithered through his stomach like a writhing mass of slimy eels, and his breaths were sharp, quick, like the jabs of a wiry pugilist.

It was half past noon on Tuesday - three days since Lisa modified his cell phone so that he could talk to Linka - and he was waiting for word from Lisa that Levi's plan had worked. If it had, he and Lisa would travel to opposite world the next day. If it hadn't, he'd go yet another day without seeing her, and his depression would grow like a malignant tumor on his heart.

Being able to talk to her was great, but in a way it only made things worse, because he could hear her, but not hold her, he could tell her he loved her, but not show her. It was like starving to death while wrapped in the good smells of a feast wafting from the next room - taunting you, mocking you, driving you out of your mind because it's so close yet so, so far away. Over the past two days, he vacillated between happy and sad like a swinging pendulum, and it was noticeable: He knew his sisters were worried, he could see it in their eyes and in the way they looked at him, but thankfully none approached him about it. He really needed to get a grip before they did; the last thing he needed was to be mobbed by eight persistent girls who wouldn't leave him alone until they found out why he was down and who could each see through his lame attempts at lying.

 _Pacing isn't going to help_.

No, he figured as he climbed the stairs for the eighteen time that day, it wouldn't - it would only make things worse. At the head of the steps, he hesitated, then went to Lisa's door, which stood ajar. The little girl sat at her computer with her back to him and her fingers flying across the keyboard. He started to speak, but she cut him off. "No, Lincoln," she said with strained patience, "I have not heard from Levi. I will contact you immediately once I have."

Lincoln hung his head. Okay. He walked away on heavy feet, pausing when Lana came out of her room with her hands on her hips and her head oscillating back and forth like she was looking for something. When her gaze lighted on him, she frowned. "Hey, Linc, have you seen Hopps? I can't find him."

"No," Lincoln sighed, and I haven't seen Linka either.

That almost made him cry.

Almost.

With a sigh, Lana went downstairs calling Hopps's name. He was probably hiding under the couch or pigging out on bugs in the basement. She'd find him in half an hour, snuggle him with a glowing face, and be happy forever after. I wish I could find Linka that easily, but nooo, I have to wait for the stars to align just right to even see her face. That's gay. And dumb. And every other insult you can imagine.

In his room, he sat heavily on the edge of the bed and put his face in his hands, his foot already beginning to tap. When seeing your girlfriend hangs in the balance, each moment is an eternity. It's almost not worth it.

Almost.

Kind of.

I dunno, leave me alone, it's rough, okay? Lisa was right about long distance relationships sucking, but, then again, Linka's out there somewhere loving me and just the knowledge of that makes me all warm and tingly. I'm kind of nervous about going to her world, though. I've never gone through dimensions and it's a _little_ intimidating. Like she said, if the coordinates aren't exact, you could wind up on the bottom of the ocean, or in the middle of an active volcano. I can see it now: Me and Lisa trapped in the teleporter, like a big metal coffin, screaming in terror as it slowly sinks into a sea of bubbling lava. _Hark, for the end hath arrived, male sibling, and I daresay we shan't escape our fate._

He smiled wanly. Lisa didn't really talk like that, but she always did in his thoughts because exaggeration.

I'm also kind of nervous about her actual world, you know? I doubt I'll leave her house (or her bedroom, rather, wink-wink) but...it's weird, being in a totally different reality, you know? And the thought of her brothers - nine overprotective boys - catching us is just a _little_ scary. I mean, the way she makes it sound, they're practically cavemen, and if they find some dude on top of their sister, they're likely to drag him off and start whipping his ass. It'd be worth it, but I'd still like to avoid an _American History X_ situation if I can.

Something dropped into his lap, and he jumped with a cry of alarm.

Hopps cocked his head and looked up in confusion. _What's wrong, Linc? You look like you've seen a ghost frog._

"What are _you_ doing here?" Lincoln asked. "Lana's looking for you."

 _Ribbit._

Lincoln sighed. "I hear that. I'm all over the place lately. Happy one minute, sad the next, nervous, anxious - you ever feel that way?"

Hopps seemed to think long and hard before ribbiting again.

"Yeah, I guess you wouldn't. It's a human problem. All you have to worry about it when Lana's gonna bring you your next batch of bugs."

Had Hopps ever...been with...a girl frog? Had he even _seen_ one? Lana brought him home from the park when he was just a baby, so it's not like he was on the dating scene yet. Surely he must feel biological instincts. Every man has them...every woman too, for that matter. Poor guy had no one to sate them with, no girl frog to love and cherish and fall asleep with at night.

Now, _that's_ depressing.

"Let's get you back to Lana."

Taking the frog in his hands, he went out into the hall and down the stairs, finding Lana kneeling in front of the couch and looking underneath. "Hopps? Where are you, boy? Mama's _really_ starting to worry."

"I found him," Lincoln said.

Lana whipped around, saw Hopps, and lit up light Christmas morning, a high, excited squeal trembling past her lips. She jumped up, snatched him out of Lincoln's hand, and held him close...then twirled around like a woman in a romance movie.

"I was worried I'd never see you again," she said, and a pang went through Lincoln's stomach. He knew the feeling.

Hugging him tight, she turned to Lincoln. "Thanks, Linc, where was he?"

"My room."

Lana rolled her eyes and fixed the frog with a stern, motherly look. "What have I told you about going into other people's rooms without permission?"

 _Ribbit._

"Don't back sass me, mister."

Lincoln grinned. Lana was the last of his sisters you'd expect to have maternal instincts (well, along with Lynn and Lola), but she was a total mom to all of her pets, and it was cute.

Well, at least _she's_ happy now. Leaving them to their reunion, he went back to his room and sat on the bed. Come on, Lise, damn. Or Levi. Whoever was at fault. I _need_ to see Linka - it's a deep, gnawing ache in the pit of my stomach. Ahh, it feels like I'm being eaten alive over here while you're messing ar -

The walkie talkie on the nightstand crackled and Clyde's voice issued forth. "White hair, this is four eyes, come in."

I completely forgot this dude existed.

Joking, but, yeah, I've been pretty preoccupied the last couple days.

He picked the radio up and depressed the button on the side. "Four eyes, this is white hair, do you copy?"

"Loud and clear, buddy! Wanna hang?"

Lincoln started to say no, he wasn't in he mood, but stopped. Actually, hanging out with Clyde sounded like a nice distraction. Better than pacing the floors and consuming himself with worry. "Sure," he said.

"Awesome. Meet me at the arcade in fifteen minutes. I got a pocket full of quarters and a hankering for some gameage."

"Alright, see you there. Over and out."

He sat the walkie talkie on the nightstand and sighed. Alright. I'm gonna go hang out with my best friend, play some games, and _not_ think of Linka.

Right.

Across the universe, Linka stared into her milkshake as though it held all the answers, but instead she saw only microscopic bits of strawberry. Sigh.

"You sure you're okay?" Claudia asked from across the table, her brow creased in worry.

They were sitting at a booth along the far wall of Jill's Grub and Games. The electronic sounds of beeping, booping, and binging drifted in from the adjoined arcade. They'd been here close to an hour sipping shakes and munching fries. Well, Claudia munched fries, Linka didn't have much of an appetite; she was wracked with nerves and waiting to hear from her little brother whether or not his plan had worked. She didn't know what it was (he wouldn't tell her), and she couldn't decide it that made her feel better or worse.

She glanced at her phone sitting next to her glass, but Levi hadn't texted her.

"Yeah," she said, "I'm fine. Just...out of sorts." She forced a laugh and threw up her hand in a _what are you gonna do gesture_.

Claudia took a sip of her shake and nodded. "I've noticed." A short girl with glasses, she wore a pale yellow dress and a blue bow in her hair. She and Linka had been best friends for as long as either could remember, and knew each other like a favorite book. "You've been kind of spacey. Is something up?"

"No," Linka said and shook her head. "Not really.'

Claudia lifted a critical brow and Linka squirmed under her scrutiny - she wasn't a very good liar, especially when the person she was lying to was her best friend in the whole world. "Really, it's nothing."

"Oh, it's something alright. But what?"

Linka shrugged.

Claudia scrunched her lips to the side and furrowed her brow in thought. After a moment, she grinned. "It's a boy, isn't it?"

A hot blush burst across Linka's face and she shook her head. "No," she said quickly, "i-it's not. I swear."

Claudia smirked. "It's a boy," she said with absolute certaintude. "What's his name? What's he like? Is he cute?"

"It's not a boy," Linka said. "I swear. It's…" she looked around the room for something, anything to seize onto. Her eyes landed on the jukebox. "My favorite song isn't in the jukebox anymore and I really wanna hear it."

Claudia laughed. "Oh?" she asked incredulously. "That's awful. Too bad we don't have handheld devices that can access our favorite music whenever we want to hear it."

Linka grinned sheepishly. See what I mean? I'm an awful liar.

"Oh, wait," Claudia said, a mocking hilt to her voice. She picked up her phone and shook it. "We do."

Sigh. Linka hung her head and kicked herself in the butt. That was dumb even for me.

Setting her phone on the table with a clink, Claudia leaned over with wide, inquisitive eyes and a knowing smile. "Spill the beans, Link, what's he like?"

Linka considered her options before replying. She could either keep denying it or she could just tell her. Claudia was like a dog with a steak sometimes...or a crocodile with a death grip on a tasty hunk of meat: She just _would not stop._ Finally, she decided. "He's really cute," she said, and instantly felt herself smiling. "And sweet and smart and everything else."

Claudia giggled. "That's so awesome, who is he?"

Uhhh...should she say his name? Yeah, why not? It was kind of close to hers, but that wasn't _too_ weird: Her Mom was friends with an old woman named Jean who was married to a man...named Gene. Now _that_ was weird. Like, can you imagine them having sex? _Oh, Jean; Oh, Gene; God, Jean; I'm cumming, Gene._ Lol. "His name's Lincoln. He...uh...lives in a different town."

"How'd you meet him?"

"Internet."

"Ah. Have you actually met in, like, in person yet?"

Linka's mind flashed back to hers and Lincoln's lovemaking...kissing, touching, exploring each other's bodies and giving one another their hearts _and_ virginities.

Suddenly, she felt _very_ warm, _very_ tingly, and _very_ giggly. "Yeah," she said.

Claudia lidded her eyes. "Something happened, didn't it?"

Linka nodded. "Yeah, something happened."

For a moment Claudia looked indecisive, then hesitantly asked, "How was it?"

"Amazing," Linka said.

In Lincoln's world, he leaned heavily against the Space Invaders cabinet and watched as Clyde blasted rank after rank of alien spacecrafts to intergalactic hell. Or tried to watch, since his mind was on other things.

They'd been at the arcade for half an hour and in that time, Lincoln had flubbed every game he played, even Pac-Man, at which he was God.

"...off your game today," Clyde said as he moved the joystick back and forth. Soft electric glow bathed his face and reflected off the lenses of his glasses like quicksilver, lending him a somehow robotic look. "Everything alright?"

Lincoln and Clyde had been friends since kindergarten, and they each other backwards, forward, and side-to-side, so of course Clyde noticed something was up, why wouldn't he? I have a bad habit of wearing my emotions on my sleeve. When I'm mad, you know it, when I'm happy, you know it, when I'm turned on...well...I hope you don't know _that_. "Yeah, everything's fine, I just...I dunno...lot of my mind."

Onscreen, the final spaceship exploded and the next level started. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No,' Lincoln said, "it's not major, just...personal stuff."

For a moment Clyde didn't reply. "Well...I'm here if you need me."

Lincoln appreciated that. A lot of people don't have anyone to turn to in their times of need - they're alone in the world and everything they think and feel kind of atrophies - but he had a pretty impressive support system between his sisters, his parents, and Clyde.

And now Linka too. Things were kind of awkward at first as thing are between a boy and girl, the doppelganger aspect aside, but over the past couple days he'd come to feel like he could talk to Linka about anything...even things that he might not be able to talk to Clyde or his sisters about. She was him, after all, so many of her problems were like his even if not the same, and she understood him in a way that no one else ever would. Hell, she might even understand him better than he understood himself.

"Thanks," Lincoln said, "it's-it's nothing. Just nerves." He chuckled humorlessly.

Clyde's ship took a direct hit and exploded into a million pieces. GAME OVER appeared across the screen and Clyde let go of the joystick. "Dr. Lopez says that you shouldn't dwell on things beyond your control. I know it's hard and I do it myself, but I try not to, because she's right. The only thing fretting can do for you is give you an ulcer."

True, but how can you _not_ worry when it's something important like whether or not you're going to be able to see your girlfriend? You might not be able to control a situation, but...look at the Cold War. Most people couldn't control the threat of nuclear annihilation, but they still worried about it, and rightfully so; an atomic holocaust would be terrible.

Just like not seeing Linka would be terrible.

His stomach clenched, and he winced in pain. "You wanna talk a walk?" Clyde asked. "Clear your head a little?"

Yeah, yeah he did. "Sure."

Back in Linka's timeline, she slipped through the front door and closed it softly behind her. Loki sat in the middle of the couch Facetiming with his girlfriend, Bobbie, and Luke was perched on the edge of the coffee table next to his friend Sam, a thin blonde with a blue streak and peach fuzz on his chin. They were both strumming guitars, Luke directing Sam. "Nah, man, you're doing it wrong."

"Sounds good to me," Sam said, "quit tripping."

"Man, fuck you, your playing sounds like shit. You don't wanna improve?"

Linka went up the stairs and started for Levi's room, but stopped at Lane and Luke's door when she caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eye. She turned, and Lane glared at her from his bed, making Linka's heart sink. He was _still_ mad at her about the suspenders jab. She felt bad, but she was also starting to get annoyed: Loki twisted his arm, Luke called him a fag, Lexx stuck out his foot and tripped him, Loni said he had a small dick - and he got over it like _that_ but she makes a comparatively harmless joke and he holds a grudge. Seriously?

She started to snap, but stopped herself and took a deep breath. He had every right to be upset with her even if he _was_ taking it too far. "Lane," she said patiently, "I said I was sorry. Why are you still mad at me?" She lifted her hand and let it drop as if to say _really?_

Lane stared at her for a moment, then sighed. "Because you hurt my feelings."

That stuck her like a blade in the stomach, but still. "I'm sorry," she repeated earnestly, "I shouldn't have done it, okay? But you're making a bigger deal out of this than it is. Everyone else savages you, and you don't stay mad, but you're staying mad at me."

"Because it doesn't bother me when they pick on me," Lane blurted, "it does when you do it."

Linka blinked in surprise, then hung her head in shame. She was an eleven-year-old girl, and sometimes she forgot that her brothers looked at her as more than just a sister; hers was an ill-defined role, and it was easy to act outside of it. She had only herself to blame - she started playing mother before she could even form complete sentences and everyone just got used to it. Coming from one of their brothers, an insult didn't mean anything, it happened everyday and that's just how they operated. Coming from her, it did mean something and probably hurt.

Now she felt like crying.

"Lane, I'm sorry," she said heavily. She went over and sat on the edge of the bed. Lane watched her suspiciously, then his brow softened a little when he saw the remorse in her eyes. "I just...I was afraid everyone was going to bother me about...how I was emotional. I have...a lot on my mind and I wanted to get the focus off of me, so I made that joke knowing they'd run with it. It was really wrong and I'm sorry."

"What's on your mind?" he asked worriedly. He swung his legs out from under him, dangled them over the edge, then slided closer, his hand going tentatively to her shoulder.

Darn it. I shouldn't have said anything. "Nothing I just...I didn't feel like being smothered by everyone."

Lane nodded understandingly. "Yeah. I guess it must get old."

"Sometimes," Linka allowed, "but only when I wanna be left alone." She patted his leg. "I'm sorry for saying that about your suspenders."

Lane shrugged. "I guess they _are_ kind of gay."

"No," Linka said, "they're perfect. Just like you."

Lane grinned. "Well, I wouldn't say _that_ but okay!"

She held her arms out. "Hug?"

Lane swept her into a tight embrace and squeezed; her eyes bugged out of her head and her tongue shot out from her mouth. She hugged him back, though. "Wanna hear some new material for my act?" he asked and released her.

She started to say no, but figured why not? Levi hadn't texted her, which meant going to his room and bothering him probably wouldn't achieve anything. "Sure, what do you have?"

"Well…" he cleared his throat and straightened his bowtie. "It's not much, just a few things I cooked up for the Fifth Annual Royal Woods Joke-A-Thon."

The Joke-A-Thon was a talent show/charity event held each year during the first week of August to benefit the children's hospital in Elk Park. Lane entered every year but never won; he had a good time, but it bummed him out to not even rank in the top ten. "I decided that I needed a more mature act," he said, "no more kiddie humor."

Uh-oh.

 _Mature_ was often code for _dirty_ , and while Linka could stand dirty jokes herself, she didn't think the organizers of the Joke-A-Thon would like it very much. "I hope they're not smutty," she worried.

"Nah," Lane waved his hand, "they're fine. Wanna hear?"

The glint in his eye told her that she would regret saying yes, but she said it anyway.

"Great. What has 5 arms, 3 legs and 2 feet?"

Linka thought for a second. "What?"

"The finish line at the Boston Marathon."

Linka's jaw dropped in horror.

"What did the boy with no hands get for Christmas? GLOVES! Nah, just kidding... He still hasn't unwrapped his present."

Lane smacked his knee and laughed. Linka simply gaped. Wow, those were mean...but the no hands one _was_ kind of funny.

"How did Rihanna find out Chris Brown was cheating on her? She found another woman's lipstick on his knuckles."

A shocked laugh escaped her throat. "Lane, that's awful."

He hitched laughter. "What about this one? What's the difference between a Jew and Harry Potter? Harry can escape the chamber."

Call her what you will, but Linka laughed until tears streamed down her face; the fact that they were awful and not the kinds of things you make jokes about, delivered in Lane's typically upbeat way, made them all the funnier. "You're evil," she said fondly and brushed a tear away from her eye.

"You're laughing, though," Lane said archly.

"I know," Linka said, "I'm evil too."

"Nothing wrong with a little evil now and then."

Well...I don't know. "You totally shouldn't do those jokes."

Lane's smile dropped a little. "Come on. They'll knock the judges dead."

"Not in a good way," Linka pointed out.

Lane started to protest, but closed his mouth. "You might be right."

She patted his leg again and stood. "I know I'm right. I'm Linka freaking Loud. I'm _always_ right."

He didn't laugh her out of the room, he just happened to be laughing when she left. Wink. At Levi's door, she took a deep, steadying breath. Alright, he hasn't texted me, but I should go in anyway, just to check up on things. In fact, he might be waiting for me, since he knows how impatient I am. Gasp, it's probably bad news and he wants to break it to me in person. _I'm sorry, Linka, but not only are our parents and brothers not leaving the house, you've also developed a sudden and life-threatening allergy to Lincoln. If you some much as enter the same universe as him, you'll begin to bleed from every pore in your body and then explode into a million little pieces like Linka confetti._ Well...in that case, dear Levi...you better bring a Tupperware container and a pair of gloves to pick up my cold, quivering remains, 'cuz I'm seeing Lincoln even if it's the last thing I do. Literally.

Balling her fist, she knocked on the door, then went in when Levi called out. He was sitting at the computer with his head tilted back and his eyes closed as though he were catching a quick nap between equations. "It's either Lynn or Linka. If it's Lynn, put ice on it until the swelling goes down, it it's Linka, it's a go."

Linka blinked. "It is?" she asked hopefully.

"Yep," Levi said. "Lincoln and Lisa are coming here tomorrow at two. Our parents, of course, will be at work, and our brothers will be at a birthday party."

"Birthday party?"

Levi turned in his chair, his arms crossed and his eyes bleary. "A birthday party," he confirmed.

Linka started to ask whose, where it was, and why they all agreed to go...but forget that, she was going to see Lincoln! That was flipping the best thing _ever!_ She beamed and almost broke into a happy dance, but restrained herself. She _did_ allow herself a little shake/fisting hands/squee combo that brought a ghost of a grin to Levi's face. "The party shouldn't end until well after sundown, which gives you and Lincoln at least three hours before our parents return. I advise prudence, however, and urge you to not plan for more than an hour and a half."

"I won't," she churiped. An hour and a half wasn't very long...then again, it was a whole hour and a half of holding Lincoln's hand and talking to him and kissing him and *SQUEE* "Levi, you're the best."

The little boy smiled. "Thank you," he said, "I certainly try."

"You succeed." She turned to go. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date to get ready for~"


	8. Meeting Between Worlds

**MrNonesense: My mom knew a married couple named Jean and Gene. They were nice. I looked those jokes up online. I can sometimes come out with my own, but I wasn't feeling it that day.**

 **Guest: I don't like the name "Bebe" so I didn't use it. I also don't like the name Ron Andy, which is why I only refer to genderswapped Ronnie Anne as "Ron."**

 **STR2D3PO: I wanted things to be a little different, so I had Claudia like Luke instead of Loki.**

 **Guest: I do have something planned for Halloween. Stay tuned.**

* * *

Lincoln Loud spent most of Friday morning in a state of stomach churning suspense, worried that something would go wrong at the last minute - he didn't sleep very much the night before, and when he did, he dreamed of Linka. At 6am, he decided to get up for the day and take a shower, then realized it was really early and that he'd probably have to take another before he and Lisa left.

At breakfast, he ate slowly, forcing himself not to rush - going fast wouldn't get him to Linka any sooner, so chill out, huh, Linc? Enjoy your generic Cocoa Puffs and _breathe._

Alright. Yeah. No hurry. Just...eat...then...hang out.

In the Loud house, morning roasts, as he told Linka, happen, and today it was Lana's turn: She sat between Lola and Lori happily slurping cereal and ignoring her sisters as they mocked everything about her, from the way she was dressed ("She looks like Dennis the Menace if he was a transvestite," Lola said) to her 'grossness' ("She's literally the most disgusting person ever," Lori said, "I've seen turds cleaner than her"). The fun ended when Luan started cracking puns, like it always did. Lincoln wasn't a fan of puns, but he had to admit, it takes a mad genius to be able to whip one up as quickly as Luan did.

After breakfast, he took his bowl into the kitchen, sat it in the sink, then went upstairs. In his room, he stretched out on the bed, grabbed an Ace Savvy comic, and tried to lose himself in the world of heroes and villains, but the excitement bursting in his chest ensured that his focus strayed. In just a few short hours, he'd be holding and kissing Linka, breathing in her smell, holding her hand, and tasting her lips. To say he was stoked was an understatement: His entire body thrummed like a high tension wire and each minute that ticked by seemed to last forever. Time's a funny thing: When you're having fun, it goes too quick, when you're not or you're waiting, it dragged on and on. Summer days come and go like a warm breeze; school days stretch into forever like an icy tundra. Lisa said they'd only have about an hour and a half, which wasn't very much and would pass in a snap. Even so, that was an hour and a half he'd have with Linka; an hour and a half to hold her and love her and gaze into her big brown eyes.

His stomach fluttered at that last thought, and he shifted uncomfortably. Of all the things he was looking forward to - yes, including having sex with her - _that,_ looking into her eyes and stroking her cheek, was number one. When he locked gazes with her, he felt something unlike anything he had ever known before, a warm, tingling, soul-stirring _connection_. He'd tried to define and articulate it to himself again and again over the past couple days, but he kept coming back to one word: Right. It felt _right_ , as though right there, with her, was where God meant him to be, where destiny had been leading him his entire life. It sounded sappy, but he honestly believed that Linka was his soulmate.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and setting the comic aside, he took it out: An incoming call from Linka. He smiled softly: She was just as excited as he was. Last night they talked before bed, and he could hear it in her voice, a giddy undertone that somehow made her sound even more beautiful than she already did.

Swiping his thumb across the screen, he lifted it to his ear. "Hey," he said.

The line crackled with static, and Linka's voice was faint. "...staticky today."

Last night, they both noticed more white noise than before. He brought it up to Lisa and she said it most likely had to do with a solar flare, as the screen was snowy when she and Levi video conference.

"I only got part of that," he said with a frown.

"I said...very...today." Her words broke and scrambled, only half of her message getting through.

"Yeah, you're breaking up pretty bad."

 _Hiss._

"..fine, you just sound...far away. Are...excited?"

Lincoln grinned. "Very excited. I barely slept."

The phone was getting warm very quickly.

"...either. I…"

 _Crinkle. Hiss. Pop._

Oooh, that last one didn't sound too good. You know how electricity can surge through outlets during storms and fry electronics? I wonder if the same rules apply here. "Look, I better go. If you can hear me, I love you."

"...you too...coln."

Sigh. See what kind of BS I have to deal with? No one else on the face of the earth has to worry about solar flares interfering with them talking to their girlfriend, or about the possibility of their phone overheating and blowing up in their hand.

Well, actually, that last one they do - lithium batteries explode all the time, which is why they aren't allowed on airplanes anymore. Still, you get the picture. I can't really complain, though; I get to talk to _and_ see her, which is more than some couples get.

Setting the phone aside, he grabbed the comic and tried once again to occupy himself, but it just wasn't going to happen. What time is it? He glanced at the clock and sighed. 9:53. Four hours and seven minutes until he and Lisa climbed into the teleporter and set off for opposite world, four hours until he could finally hold Linka in his arms again and kiss the tip of her nose...four long, mind-numbing hours. He should find something to fill the time, but he didn't _want_ to do anything. Except see Linka. That was about it.

God, this day's going to last forever.

And it did.

By 10:30 he was pacing back and forth between the desk and the door, six steps to one and six steps to the other. Twelve. Twelve minus one is eleven. Linka's age. His room was once a closet. Closets are where girls keep clothes. Linka's a girl. One of the games on his dresser was Legend of Zelda...in which you play as a character named Link. Link with 'a' on the end is Linka.

Everything went back to her, is what I'm saying.

Starting at 11:00, Lincoln ventured into the hall, going to the bathroom door then back to the desk, then to the bathroom door again, then once more to the desk. His sisters came and went like childhood playmates, the ones you meet at the park or the beach, have a great time with, then never see again. For a time, Lynn walked with him. "Why are we pacing?" she asked.

"Because I'm restless," he said.

"Why are you restless?"

"Because I have stuff on my mind."

"Why do you have stuff on your mind?"

Lincoln sighed. The day he ran out of the living room almost in tears and Lisa came after him, she told the others that he was upset because a girl he liked rejected him. The point was to get them to leave him alone, but it worked about as well as you'd expect: They didn't mob him, but almost all of them had come to him over the past few days bearing well wishes and encouraging words. _You're literally the best brother ever,_ Lori said, _You're amazing, Lincy, and I wouldn't trade you for anything...except maybe a shot at seeing Lindsey Sweetwater cry,_ Lola told him. You would think that Lynn would know why he had a lot on his mind (or to know the lie version) and leave him alone about it, but nope. It was okay, though, because he wasn't really heartbroken and even if he was, she meant well. "Because a girl I like doesn't like me back."

The corners of Lynn's lips turned slightly down. "Oh. Well...screw her. You're a cool guy. Kind of a dork, but still cool."

"Thanks," Lincoln said flatly.

"I mean, so what you read comic books in your underwear, and watch that gay ass King of the Rings stuff, and can't play sports to save your life, and who cares that your arms look like limp noodles hanging off a pencil? You're smart, and nice, and all that other stuff. Being scrawny and having a pigeon chest doesn't make one bit of difference."

Wait, I have a pigeon chest? He glanced down at the front of his shirt. "It's not -"

"I mean, you might be a geek and a nerd and you might be kind of anxious and overly angsty, but you have so many amazing qualities…"

Anxious? Overly angsty? Alright, I'll give you the first one, but not the second. My level of angst is perfectly proportionate to my age. And don't even pretend that you aren't angsty too, Lynn; I know for a fact that you're self-conscious about how small your breasts are. Lucy says you poke them and tell them to grow, and that you once had her do an enhancement ritual that she made up just to mess with you.

Okay, I'm getting defensive. Sorry. "Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?"

Lynn blinked. "Better," she said genuinely.

Well...her heart was in the right place, and that's what really mattered. He did _not_ have a pigeon chest, though, and he was _not_ full of angst.

After Lynn bounced off to go swat a ball, he was alone save for the occasional passing sister. Luan told him a joke; Lola asked him which tiara she should wear today, gold or silver (he said silver, she went with gold); and Leni stood on the sidelines tracking him with her eyes. "You're, like, making me dizzy. I'm gonna puke."

He broke for lunch at noon even though he wasn't very hungry - his feet were starting to hurt and his back too. In the kitchen, he made himself a ham and cheese sandwich, filled a glass with milk, and sat across from Lucy at the table; she was bent over a notebook, a neon pink pencil dancing across the page. What did Lynn say? He looked like a pencil with wet noodles for arms? "What'cha writing? He asked to make conversation. "A poem?"

"No," Lucy said, "my thoughts and observations."

Oh. "I didn't know you kept a diary."

"I call it a chronicle," she said, "sounds more interesting.'

Yeah, actually, it does. A diary is something a little girl writes about her crushes and her new shoes in, a chronicle is what a hardy sea captain records his manly and endlessly interesting adventures in. _Aye, me and me 'arties did battle with Ol Blue Lips today. I still aven't got me millionth dollar back but I have a plan to make a trade with him, arrr._

"What are you writing about?" Lincoln asked and took a bite of his sandwich - it tasted like nothing in his mouth.

Lucy didn't reply for a moment. "My observations on the nature of evil," she said. "People say that money is the root of all evil, but it's clear from that ludacris statement that they haven't pondered the matter very deeply. Evil, in its purest form, is selfishness. The 'evil' person takes and does what he or she wants because they care only about their own gratification. The serial killer kills because _he_ has urges; a husband who catches his wife cheating and kills both her and her partner does so because _he_ feels wronged; the genocidal dictator sends people to the gas chamber because _he_ doesn't like them; drug dealers sell crack because _they_ need money. Almost every evil act ever committed, going all the way back to Cain slaying Abel, can be traced to two letters: _M_ and _E. ME."_

Something like awe descended over Lincoln and his jaw dropped. Wow. He knew Lucy was a deep thinker, but that was insane. It also held up under scrutiny. True, he was only eleven and didn't have much life experience, but from what he _did_ have under his belt...yeah, she's right, selfishness really _is_ the root of all evil. "That's...that's something," he said.

Lucy shrugged. "It's a theory. I could be wrong." She snapped her notebook closed, got up, and slipped it under her arm. "If you need me, I'll be in my dark place."

"Which one?"

Lucy missed a beat as she presumably considered - she had several and used them interchangeably. "The vent over your room."

And _that_ was Lincoln's least favorite, because when she was there, what little privacy he had went right out the window. She couldn't see him, but she could hear him...and smell him; one time he farted, silent but deadly, and a few minutes later he was startled out of his skin when a ghostly gagging and retching drifted through the grate over his bed. _Wow, Lincoln, you should check your underwear._

Good thing he wasn't planning on being in his room.

When she was gone, he finished his sandwich then texted Linka. _I'm really looking forward to seeing you._ It was redundant and unnecessary, but he felt like talking to her.

Leaving his phone on the table, he went into the kitchen, rinsed him plate, then grabbed a Sam's Cola from the fridge. Because there were thirteen people in the house (isn't that an unlucky number?), Mom and Dad kept groceries on the cheap. No name brands and no _extras_. That cheese he used for his sandwich? That was a rare luxury - usually the only topping was potato chips. Hmmm. Love that crunch. Sam's Cola wasn't bad, but it sure wasn't Coke - Coke was the god of caffeinated soda drinks and Lincoln was its faithful servant.

He cracked the can open and took a drink.

Hey, even the most righteous among us slip every now and then.

In the dining room, he checked his phone, but Linka hadn't texted back, so he shoved it into his pocket and went into the living room: Lori was texting, Leni watched TV, and Lola sat in the armchair staring into a compact and doing her makeup. The Little Miss High and Mighty pageant was in a few weeks; apparently this year there was an _apply your own makeup_ portion and Lola wanted to _make Lindsey Sweetwater my bitch_ in it, so she'd been doing her makeup non stop, putting it on, wiping it off, then putting it on again every...single...day...

Lincoln dropped next to Lori and Leni and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table. "Down," Lori commanded without looking up. Lincoln sighed and planted his feet on the floor. On TV, a fat woman lay in bed looking like a quivering pink mass, while a man stood off to the side and shook his head sadly. " _Sandy's weight is only getting worse, I hope Dr. Now can help."_

"What are you watching?" he asked Leni.

"The fat person show," Leni replied airily. Her smile dropped and her forehead creased. "I feel really bad for them. They need a hug."

Onscreen, a car pulled up to a drive thru window while a female voiceover narrated. " _Dr. Now said I have to eat light, but I've lost half a pound this week, so I think I've earned a cheat day."_

The woman, her eyes lost in the folds of her fat, stuck her head out and window and placed her order. "I'll have two number 9's, a number 9 large, a number 6 with extra dip, a number 7, two number 45's, one with cheese, and a large soda."

That's a lot of cheating, Lincoln thought as he took out his phone. Still no text. When did he send it? He checked the time - ten minutes ago. That's a long time.

Well...not really. She has a life, after all, and she can't be glued to her phone 24/7. Since he was in the neighborhood, he checked his Facebook - there was a flamewar in the Ace Savvy Fans - Michigan Chapter group. It looked political in nature: He saw _libtard_ and _conservacunt_ and noped out. Miss me with that crap. Next, he checked the Ace Savvy page he and Clyde co-created - the sole engagement since last month was someone posting a poorly drawn piece of fan art: One Eyed Jack getting head from Ace. Lincoln squinted. Seriously? Sighing, he deleted it and banned the guy who posted it, then went over to Discord. The Ace Savvy server was abuzz with...oh, lovely, more politics. He closed out and checked his message thread with Linka. Still no response.

Sigh.

On TV, Sandy sat in a doctor's office while a hunch-back doctor with glasses chided her. " _You were supposed to lose fifty pounds but instead you gained a hundred."_ Sandy looked down at her stomach like a chastized child. " _I cannot do the surgery. Lose one hundred and fifty pounds, then we'll talk."_

The next scene was of Sandy pulling up to a McDonald's drive-thru. " _I'm real depressed because Dr. Now won't do the surgery. This should make me feel better."_

"Yeah," Leni said sadly, "she needs a hug."

Lori blew a raspberry. "You _literally_ wouldn't be able to get your arms around her."

"Well...where there's a will, there's, like, a way," Leni said with a determined nod.

Lincoln glanced at his phone. Still nothing.

Maybe he should take a walk around the block, unload some of this energy - as it stood now, his foot was already tapping and his drummed a nervous tempo on his knee. He looked at his phone again. No text.

Okay, maybe the text got lost or something. Lisa did say it happened sometimes. I don't wanna pester her and look like a dweeb, then again, if it was her texting _me,_ I wouldn't think she was a dweeb at all.

Screw it.

He picked up his phone and dashed off a message then hit SEND. _Just checking to see if you got my last message._ He sat it in his lap and looked at the screen, where Sandy was lying in a coffin so big it could double as a duplex. " _Sandy had every opportunity to lose weight and improve her health but would not put in the effort, now she's deceased."_

The phone buzzed, and Lincoln's heart skipped. He picked it up and read the text. _No. I was starting to think you didn't want to talk to me anymore, shadow boy. :(_

 _Of course I want to talk to you. You're my favorite person._

 _Aww :) Now that makes me happy. I'm kind of restless lol. I can't wait for you to be here._

 _Neither can I._

That made him smile...and was enough of a pick-me-up to get him through the rest of the day. At 1:50, he slunk into Lisa's room and shut the door, his heart slamming and his stomach a pit of nerves. Lisa sat at the computer typing, a long cord running from the mainframe to the teleporter suggesting that she was setting the concordance or something.

"You're late," she said.

Lincoln froze. "Late?"

"Yes," she said, "I expected you in here half an hour ago jumping and squealing like a child on Christmas morning."

Oh. "I wanted to, but I held off. Is-Is everything still a go?"

Lisa punched a button and the teleporter began to hum. "Yes. I just spoke to Levi on video conference. He and Linka are alone." She jumped up and went around the end of the desk and toward the teleporter. "The reception was especially poor today," she said as Lincoln followed.

"Yeah, Linka kept breaking up earlier and we lost a text somewhere."

Humming, Lisa waved a card in front of a black keypad flanking the door, and it opened with a vacuum whoosh. She stepped in, and Lincoln came behind, his heart starting to race. He'd never used Lisa's teleporter before, and though he trusted her to have done everything right, calamity could still strike - like getting lost in between worlds like a fly between window panes or something. He was uncomfortably reminded of an episode of _The Twilight Zone_ where this jet airliner somehow went back in time...and kept going...and going...and going until the passengers could look out their windows and see dinosaurs. A shiver raced down his spine and a vision flashed before his eyes: He and Lisa emerging from the teleporter in the year 22000 BC and being beset by spiders as big as houses. _Hark, brother, the end is at hand._

It'd be even worse if they stepped out into the year 1985. Big hair, denim jackets, Ronald Reagan in the white house *shiver*

Lisa punched a button and the door swished closed. As she typed in a keypad, Lincoln looked around at the crazy confusion of knobs, levers, buttons, and flashing lights. How anyone could make sense of it was beyond him, but if anyone could, it was Lisa. "This is safe, right?" he asked.

"Of course it is," she said dismissively, "I wouldn't let you in here if it wasn't." She put her hands behind her back and puffed her chest confidently out. Lincoln relaxed a little, then tensed when the machine whirred and began to vibrate. Lisa's expression remained stoic and unchanged, so Lincoln forced himself to calm down.

The glass shimmered with electricity, then cleared, revealing Linka and Levi standing side-by-side, the latter with his hands behind his back in a posture identical to Lisa's and the former with her hands fisted to her chest and her face glowing with excitement. When Lincoln saw her, his heart burst and a goofy smile spread across his face.

"Here we are," Lisa said. She stabbed the button, and the door slid open. Lincoln waited for her to go, but she shooed him on. He stepped out, and Linka ran over with a squeal, hitting him like the cutest train ever and wrapping her arms around his neck in a bear hug that _wasn't_ so cute. Lincoln's eyes bugged out of his head, but he hugged her back anyway, her warm shape feeling so right in his arms that he melted into a puddle of goo and soaked into the carpet.

"I missed you _so_ much," she said and hugged him tighter.

He pressed his cheek to hers and drew a deep breath through his nose, her scent muddling his brain and making him drunk. "I missed you too," he said. She pulled back a little, and their eyes locked - Lincoln's heart sped up and his chest stirred. _I'm right where I'm supposed to be,_ he thought and cupped her cheek in his hand; they leaned slowly into one another and their lips met softly, their tongues caressing in a warm, gentle greeting. She flattened her palms on his chest, then took his face in her hands as their heads tilted back and forth, their bodies drawing together as if by magnetism.

Lisa walked up to Levi and nodded, a sly smile on her face. "Levi," she said.

He nodded back with a smile of his own. "Lisa."

Linka pried her lips away from Lincoln's and slipped her hand into his, their fingers weaving together. "How was the trip? Were you scared? I was flipping _terrified_ when me and Levi did it. I thought we were gonna wind up on Mars or something. And when I saw Lisa's room I thought it was Levi's and I was like 'huh? Did we even leave the house?' Did you see me through the window? I saw you and my heart started doing a happy dance. I said 'there's Lincoln!' It was pretty cool seeing the teleporter show up. The air got all shimmery like I was gonna have a flashback then BOOM, there it was." She laughed musically. Lincoln was so caught up in her eyes and the sound of her voice that he didn't realize she was leading him toward her bedroom; she probably didn't even realize it either - they just started walking.

"I saw you," he said, picking that to reply to because she kind of rambled and threw a lot out there. "And my heart did a happy dance too." He glanced to his right, and came to a shuffling stop - Linka kept going but jerked back like a dog on a leash. "Are those your brothers?" he asked and nodded to the framed picture on the wall even though he knew it was.

Linka turned her head and followed his gaze. "Yep. That's them." She lead him over and they both looked up, Lincoln's head swimming from the surreality of seeing each one of his sisters as a boy.

"Wow," he drew, "that's crazy." He reached into his pocket and took out his phone; Linka leaned curiously over to see as he went into his pictures. He found a selfie with all of his sisters crowded around (Lola with duck lips, Luna making the Devil horns sign, Luan giving Lucy bunny ears) and showed it to Linka. "The normal world version."

"Oh, wow," she breathed and snatched the phone away, holding it up in front of her face with one hand and tucking her hair behind her ear with the other. "That is freaking _mind-blowing."_ She giggled. "Luke looks good as a girl, and Loki's really pretty." She darted her eyes from face to face, giggling here and there. "Look at Lars. He might look _better_ as a girl. And Loni is adorable." She handed it back to him and looked at the photo of her and her brothers. "I always kind of wondered what it would be like to have an older sister. Someone I could do girl stuff with. Like manicures and facials and talking about boys." She looked at him. "You ever feel like that?"

Lincoln nodded; he had. Growing up surrounded by girls, he secretly wanted a brother, someone to do guy things with (jeez, I just unironically echoed Linka's words exactly), someone who was like a cool friend but more. He'd largely grown out of it, though; his sisters weren't guys, and he didn't have the same relationship with them that he would have with an older brother, but he loved them entirely, and they always had his back. What more can you ask for?

"Yeah," he said and stared thoughtfully at the photo, "but I wouldn't -"

"Trade it for the world," Linka finished. They looked at one another, and laughed to themselves, clutching the other's hand tighter. They both started to speak at the same time, then stopped. "You go first," Linka said.

Lincoln fixed her eyes with his, lifted her hand to his lips, and kissed her knuckles one-by-one. "I love you...and even though being apart from you sucks ass, this right here...this makes up for it."

A beautiful smile touched Linka's lips and her eyes sparkled. "I love you too, and I agree."

Lincoln smiled and gazed into her eyes; in her, he no longer saw himself, but his hope, his happiness, and, even though he was eleven and hadn't put much thought into the matter, his forever.

"Do you want the grand tour?" Linka asked and brushed her hair nervously behind her ear, the blush on her cheeks deepening and burning bright pink. Knowing her as he did himself, she wanted nothing more than to take him to the bedroom and make love to him, but jumping right in without grace or preamble seemed...wrong. That's what you do with a cheap hook-up, not the girl (or boy) you love.

"Sure," he said genuinely. "I'm kind of curious to see how your house is different from mine."

Linka batted her eyelashes. "A lot different. I have ten gross, smelly brothers. What does your bathroom look like?"

They were descending the stairs now. Framed photos hung from the walls, said gross, smelly brothers staring down at him like members of a jury, investigating his worth and finding him lacking. _You're not good enough for Linka, dude._ No, he probably wasn't, Linka was beautiful and perfect in every way, _no one_ was good enough for her. All he could do was try his best. "A bathroom," he finally said, and she giggled sweetly.

"Obviously. I mean..how clean is it?"

Lincoln thought for a second. "Pretty clean," he started uncertainly, "I mean...messes happen. My sisters aren't immaculate, they can be slovenly too." They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Lincoln looked interestedly around the living room. The couch, armchair, and coffee table were in the exact same spots as they were at home, the TV too. A strange and out of place bookcase flanked the archway into the dining room, its shelves crammed with DVDs.

Following his gaze, Linka said, "Most of those are video games and action movies."

"Video games?" Lincoln asked.

She nodded. "Yep. My brothers can spend _hours_ playing games. I mean, I like playing them too from time to time, but they're _really_ serious about them."

Lincoln grinned. "That's really cool. All my sisters hate video games."

Every so often, he'd try to get Lynn, Luan, or Lucy to play with him, but they treated games like they were leprosy or something, which kind of surprised him. Lynn struck him as the type who'd go _crazy_ for _Madden_ , and he had more than one game that would appeal to Lucy (in fact, he bought _Eldritch Abomination_ with her in mind), and Luan...yeah, he didn't really have anything for her. Having someone always on tap...say ten brothers...to play with sounded freaking awesome.

"I like video games, I just don't like playing them all day long." She placed special emphasis on each of the last three words, her eyes rolling to the ceiling. Lincoln couldn't say why, but she was so cute in that moment that he wanted to pounce her.

He restrained himself, however. "Yeah?" he asked.

Their eyes met and, if possible, she blushed harder. Biting her bottom lip, she nodded and glanced down at the floor. "I like to do other things."

"Like?"

She looked up at him, smirked, then shrugged her shoulders like a girl enjoying the embrace of a cozy blanket and stepped into his arms, hers slipping around his neck and her body pressing gently to his. Lincoln's heart skipped a beat or five, and his dick twitched against her warmth. The clean scent of her skin drifted into his nose and the feeling of her heart pounding into his made him weak in the knees. Her eye glinted with a mischievous light, and the corners of her pink lips turned slightly up in a playful grin. She leaned in, her nose brushing against his, and Lincoln gave himself to the moment; their lips met, her sweet, fragrant breath filling his mouth, then their tongues danced, slow at first, then faster as their passions rose, Linka ran her fingers through his hair and Lincoln ran his hands down her curved back and over the fleshy globes of her butt. She flicked her tongue across his and pulled back, sucking his bottom lip with a wet smacking sound. "You," she said.

For a moment Lincoln simply gaped at her, then he pressed his lips needily to hers and kissed her again, pushing her gently back; she held on and let him guide her to the couch, their tongues lapping and swirling around one another, licking and tasting every crevice of the other's mouth. Somehow she wound up on her back, her legs resting on either one of his hips and her socked heels braced against his butt; her head spun and her heart thundered in her chest, resounding through the chambers of her skull like a distant cannonade. Her core tingled in giddy expectation, and her nipples hardened to the point of aching. Lincoln broke from her lips and kissed her jawline, his hand fumbling at the top button of her blouse and his fingers slipping in, skimming her flesh and sending tendrils of pulsating pleasure into her center.

She purred into his mouth when he found her breast and cupped it in his hand, his body heat soaking into her and raising goosebumps on her arms and butt. He molded his lips to her pulse and lovingly stroked it with his tongue; she moaned and raked her nails across his back, her hips lifting insistently against his bulging erection, her pinching walls crying out to be stroked and teased, the itching back of her passage yearning to be prodded and scratched. Lincoln kissed her face, the corner of her eye, and the bridge of her nose, his breathing coming in hot bursts. Their gazes locked, and he threaded his fingers into her hair, his nails grazing her scalp and his palm cupping her cheek. He leaned in, touching the tip of his nose to hers, and a giggle bubbled up from Linka's throat.

Whenever she was with Lincoln, she felt _good_ \- that's the only word to describe it. Simple and understated, but true. The world shrank to just them, and none of her worries mattered; it was as though they existed alone, nothing beyond the parameters of their trembling bodies - not matter, not space, not even time.

Ghosting his thumb across her cheekbone, he pecked her lips and she darted out her tongue, tasting him and giggling when he winced at the unexpected greeting. She was reminded of a loyal cat kissing its master, and she grinned. "Meow," she said.

Apparently he was thinking the same, because they both burst out laughing, Lincoln's forehead smooshing against hers. His body hitched and the swell of his denim clad erection rubbed her through the fabric of her skirt and underwear, making her heartbeat increase tenfold...no, _twenty_ fold. "You're a weirdo," he said.

"I know," she said and kissed his chin. "If that's a dealbreaker…" she trailed off and lifted her brow.

Lincoln pressed his lips to hers and drank in her breath, letting it steep his already addled mind, becoming drunk on it. "It's not," he said. They looked into each other's eyes, and in unison, said, "I love you."

Hearing those three little words, and earnestly speaking them, flooded Linka's chest with teh warm-fuzzies. She ran her heels down the backs of her legs and flicked his cowlick; it bobbed from side to side like a spring, and Linka mentally supplied her own _boioioioioioioioing_ sound effects. He smiled warmly, and she kissed him. He kissed her back, and from their they lost themselves in a lazy collage of gentle stokes, hungry kisses, and reverent touching, both basking in the the other. Linka threw her head back and bit her lip as Lincoln attacked her throat with urgent pecks, his hand petting her inner thigh, moving higher, past the hem of her skirt and into her panties; Lincoln pressed his forehead to hers and stared intently into her shimmering eyes as he pulled her underwear down, his body smoldering and aching to be wedded to hers; Linka let out a breathy sigh when his fingers danced across her sensitive lower lips, slipping between them and into her inky well, her fluids oozing out and dripping down her thighs in translucent rivulets.

Planting his hands on either side of her, Lincoln shifted his hips and brought his head to her opening. Linka took his face in her hands, brushed her teeth across her bottom lip, and lifted her butt off the couch; his tip squeezed through her entrance and slipped in a fraction of an inch, making both of them moan. She unwound her legs from around his hips and raised them in a V. Taking that as his cue, Lincoln bowed his head and slid his hips forward with agonized protraction, his shaft sinking deeper. Her walls gripped him in a tight _hello, Lincoln, I really missed you_ hug, and her breathing sped up, the beautiful sting of penetration fogging her brain with lust. He reached the entrance to her womb, then pulled back, his crowned head kneading her walls and making her shake.

She let go of his face, slipped her hands under his shirt, and traced the outline of his yummy muscles, a sharp yelp tearing from her throat when he thrust roughly. A shadow of worry flickered across his face and he stopped. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," she panted, then clenched her walls around his dick as hard as she could, making him jump. "Are _you_ okay?"

"I'm fine," he said...then thrusted, battering her cervix and making her wince. "You?"

Oh, so _that's_ how it was going to be? She might not be a boy, and she might not be a very rough and tumble one if she were, but she could be _preeeetty_ competitive when the spirit took her. She bore down on her teeth in anticipation of the discomfort to come, then squeezed again, bowing her knees and slamming her heels into his back, pulling him closer like a bug to a spider's maw. She winced and both of them let out a strangled cry.

"Okay, let's not do that again," she panted.

"Agreed," Lincoln said with a nod.

She skipped her fingers over his chest and ran her heels down over his butt. "Let's change positions instead."

Now _he_ was the one lying on his back, his dick standing proud and tall like a skyscraper over a city skyline. She knelt between his legs, splayed her hands on his quivering stomach, and moved them down, her palms scraping his warm skin. His face burned scarlet, his muddled eyes swirling with the smoke of his arousal. Seeing him like that made her so hot she could barely breathe. She leaned over and placed a wet kiss to his stomach, her chest pressing his dick flat against his pubic mound. He moaned deep in the back of his throat, and she smiled into his skin, kissing lower, lower, his musky smell making her mouth water.

On her stomach now, she wrapped her fingers around his base and pulled his leaking head to her lips. A bead of precum dribbled down the side. She blinked and rolled her eyes up to his face in what she hoped was an alluring and seductive manner, then kissed his tip. Lincoln's breath hitched and his body trembled, making her giggle. "Do you like that?" she asked huskily.

He nodded.

"Good," she said, her heart pounding faster, "because I do too." She swirled her tongue around, then pressed her lips to his apex and pushed down, taking him all the way to the back of her throat. Lincoln's hips bucked and the iron tinged saltiness of his essence coated her tongue. A strand of hair fell into her face, and she brushed it aside, pulled back, then bobbed down again, licking thirstily at his oozing precum. Making him feel good was such a turn on, and she couldn't take it anymore; she spit him out, mounted him, and aligned their sexes, her fingers digging into his shoulders and her hair falling in his face like a curtain enshrouding them in their own secret garden. Lincoln put his hands on her hips and held tight as she sank onto his rod, her body wrapping around him like a second skin. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip as quivering pangs tore through her stomach. Lincoln touched the side of her face and sighed when he bottomed out. She lifted her hips in a smooth, wave-like motion, her excitement gushing out around him, then jerked down, stars and whorls of pleasure scattering across the backs of her eyelids. She'd never had sex with anyone else, but she doubted that anyone would ever feel as _right_ inside of her as him -not too big, not too small, just enough to spread her walls and rake the embers of her desire into a raging fire.

She tossed her hair out of her face and looked down into his upturned face; his skin blazed crimson and his eyes were even more limpid now, like a clear stream clouded with silt. She pushed herself up, then slid back down, taking him to her limit and arching her back, a wide, open-mouth smile crossing her lips at the way his left eye twitched. "You look like you're about to cum," she teased.

"No," he said, "I'm n-not." His voice was a husky whisper, and deep inside her, his dick throbbed in time with his heart, pulsing against her walls, which responded by contracting slightly in a warm, wet hug. He stared up at her as she pinned his shoulders to the couch and rolled her hips; his dick rotated in her, circling like a spoon scraping the last of the yummy yogurt from the sides of a container, and together they moaned.

Linka wasn't yet an expert in matters of sex (this was only her second time, come to think of it), but it didn't take a rocket scientist to tell when a boy was about to blow his load. _DIlated pupils? Check. Panting uncontrollably? Check. Gritting his teeth and calling me mommy? Well...check for the first one._ "Yes you are," she said and lifted her hips; her body gripped him tightly, molding to him and rippling as it scraped along his length.

WIth a shuddery breath, Lincoln nodded. "M-M-Maybe."

Thank God, she was about to go too; all she needed was a little more friction and she'd take off like a rocket to the moon.

She tilted her head, claimed his lips, and curled her tongue against his as she increased her speed. Lincoln wound his fingers through her hair and kissed her deeply. Perhaps picking up on her desire to finish and achieve nirvana, he threw himself into each of her thrusts, their bodies working in tandem to shove the other into bliss. Linka's end started in the tips of her toes and rushed up to her center, swelling and swelling like a one of those tinfoil popcorn things you cooked on the stove, growing steadily bigger, stronger, hotter, and when it blew, the entire house was coming down. She broke from his lips, the taste of his mouth heavy on her breath, and buried her face in the crook of his neck; she was gonna scream, and all she could do was muffle it.

Lincoln walked his hands to her undulating butt and held firm, then hooked his feet over hers.

Still swelling, still getting bigger, hotter, harder. Maybe she was imagining it, but she could _feel_ his fluid coating her walls, thin and hot like oil. That was enough to push her over the edge, but before she could go, Lincoln expanded, growing in her passage and pushing it even farther apart than it already was. She gasped and grabbed his shirt in both hands as if to keep herself from being swept away, her teeth baring and her eyes squeezing closed. Oh, here it comes, here it comes, here -

He threw his body against hers and released, his thick, boiling seed gushing from him like a geyser and flooding her womb with wet, searing heat. Her own orgasm burst like a bomb, and she screamed just like she knew she would, thrumming vibrations racing through her body and blistering every pleasure sensor from the tips of hers toes to the very top of her cowlick. She held onto his shirt as the shakes swept her, a long, trembling _nngh_ falling from her lips; her mind rolled away, and for one perfect moment, she existed only as a throbbing ball of crackling sensation without mass or form, light as air and free as a cloud.

When she came back to herself, Lincoln was holding her, winded and quivering as though he just ran a marathon. Aftershocks surged through her, and she jerked, a shocked giggle bubbling up from her throat. Through her bangs, hanging limply in her eyes, Lincoln's smile was hazed and sleepy, his eyes narrow, keeping them open too hard apparently. "Wow," she said.

"Wow," he agreed.

She rested the side of her head on his chest, the strong, regular beat of his heart soothing. He started to shrink inside of her, and pulled out in a gush of their mingled fluid; more seeped out of her, and she winced. Now that her mind was clear and her pussy satisfied, she realized what a flipping mess they probably made. She didn't even want to imagine it right now; she wanted to drift in the tide of their shared afterglow. Just for a little while.

Neither spoke for a long time, peace and tranquility lying heavily over them like a blanket - they were together and all was right in the world. When Lincoln shifted, Linka realized she was dozing. "I think we made a mess of your couch."

"I know," Linka said, drawing the word miserably out. She could feel him drying on her inner thighs, and when she moved, her knee bit into a wet spot. "Don't wanna get up, though. I'm comfy."

Lincoln kissed her forehead and she preened sleepily. "Me too."

They stayed that way for a little while longer, then Linka sighed and pushed herself up - she wasn't OCD, but knowing that hers and Lincoln's cum was soaking into the couch was _really_ beginning to bother her. She imagined one of her little brothers sitting in it and a hot rush of guilt blew through her chest like desert wind. "I gotta clean it up," she said and got to her feet, nearly falling because wow, my knees are rubbery.

"I'll help," Lincoln said and sat up. "Then maybe we can play a video game."

Now _that_ sounded like fun...but when you love someone, doing _anything_ with them sounds like fun.

...okay, maybe not _anything,_ but you get the idea. "Okay," she said, then grinned deviously, "and if we have enough time afterwards, we can have _sex_ again."

* * *

In Levi's room, Lisa pulled a straight back chair up to the desk and sat across from him; leaning over, he reached into the top drawer, pulled out a bag of gummy bears, and took a handful before holding it out to Lisa. She snaked her hand in, closed her fingers over a sizable portion, then withdrew. "It's good to see Lincoln and Linka so happy," she said and tossed a few into her mouth. "I thought she was going to stampede him to death."

Levi chuckled. "He looked delighted as well." His eyes were dark and brooding, and Lisa knew that he was thinking the same thing she was, and feeling the same reservations. "The separation has been hard on them," he added.

"It has," Lisa nodded. "But they seem to be making it work." She pointedly lifted her brow, and the corners of Levi's mouth twitched upwards; he ducked his head and stared at his feet for a long time before looking up again. When Lisa's eyes met his, she felt a familiar stirring in her breast. She didn't know she was going to speak until she did it. "I'm quite fond of you, Levi," she said.

She was not surprised when he nodded, yet her heart rate _did_ increase. "And I of you," he said.

Lisa was not sentimental or given to flights of fancy or melodrama, but regardless, those four words were the sweetest she had ever heard, and if she allowed herself, she would have grinned like a lovestruck fool. "Our...arrangements may not be optimal, but I find myself thinking of you often and when I see your face or hear you voice, I feel -"

"So do I," Levi confessed. Lisa's heart pounded when he reached out and took her hand. "And when I try to imagine the future -"

"You're always there," Lisa finished.

They both smiled. "It's not the perfect set-up," Lisa said, "but in the end -"

"It's worth it," Levi said.

Dizzy and light-headed with happiness, Lisa nodded. "Very much so."


	9. The Perfect Gift

Linka Loud just _loved_ winter - the white, pillowy snow, the piping hot cocoa, the sense of peace and good will that comes only in the weeks leading up to Christmas, then departs the very next day (like a seldom seen relative). Fun fact: Christmas was her favorite holiday ever; everything about it made her giddy with yuletide cheer. The only thing she didn't flipping adore about it was the shopping, ugh. For one thing, her parents weren't exactly rich, so five bucks a week was all they could spare for allowance, and with twelve people to buy for (not counting Pop-Pop and Claudia), it never went very far no matter _how_ much you saved up.

For another, coming up with gift ideas for so many people every year was hard work. She liked being the best present presenter possible (Linka loved linking lines, and absolutely adored alliteration, lol), so just grabbing something off a shelf and calling it a day was o-u-t out of the question. Compounding her situation was the fact that she had an extra person to factor in this go around, a very special person~

Oh, and Lisa, she had Lisa too, since she was the only one of Lincoln's sisters she'd met and not getting her something would be rude. Lisa was okay, but she could be kind of an ass sometimes. Hope she likes fruitcake, because she's getting fruitcake.

As she followed her parents and brothers across the icy parking lot bordering the Royal County Mall, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her purple parka and her fur-lined boots slipping on slush, panic gripped her. This was it, the big day, and she had no idea what to get Lincoln. Nope. Nada. Zilch.

Ahead, Lane cracked a joke and everyone groaned. Except for Luke - Luke slapped him in the back of the head, making him stumble. Linka's eyes narrowed to slits and she looked for something to throw at him. Spotting a pile of snow, she dipped one bare hand in, grabbed a palm full, and hurriedly molded it. She wound her arm back, one foot leaving the ground (just like Lynn showed her) and let fly.

It missed him by a mile and splattered on the pavement next to Lexx. Whoops. Lexx spun, his face crinkling, and glared at Leif. "You missed, fag."

"What?" Leif asked.

Lexx shoved him.

"Hey!" Leif cried indignantly and pushed his twin back.

"Boys," Mom admonished.

Lexx flipped Leif off, and Leif stuck his tongue out.

Sigh. Maybe I should stay out of their spats from now on.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, right, Lincoln. She had no clue what to get. To say Lincoln meant the world to her would be the biggest freaking understatement in the history of understatements, he was the last thing she thought about before she went to bed and the first thing she thought about on waking; just getting a text from him made her heart flutter; his voice made her feel warm and tingly (in multiple places, wink). He deserved the best darn gift 15.50 could buy.

At the main doors, a man dressed like Santa stood next to a red kettle and rang a bell. Everyone ignored him and went inside, and Linka felt bad, so she dropped a quarter into the slot.

Okay.

He deserved the best darn gift 15.25 could buy.

Inside, everyone stood in a big group, Mom holding Leon and Dad looking around with his hands on his hips like he'd never seen a mall before. Thick crowds of people shuffled past storefronts decorated with stockings, lights, and paper mache snowmen, the chattering din of a thousand voices forming a roaring cacophony that all but drowned out the piped Christmas music playing over the speakers. Linka strained to hear and _thought_ it was Rockin Around the Christmas Tree, but couldn't be sure.

"Alright, gang," Dad said, "let's split up."

Like, jinkies.

Linka grinned to herself. That was a reference to Scooby-Doo because Fred always suggested they split up. _Shaggy, you and Scoob check the spooky crypt; Velma, you check the eerie dungeon; Daphne and I will check the bedroom._ Oh, come on, you know they were having sex. As for Shaggy… *pinches thumb and forefinger and holds it to lips to simulate smoking a joint*

She was getting off track. She needed a wowtastic gift for Lincoln stat.

Everyone started to spread out, and she followed behind Luke, Loki, and Lynn because why not? She had to go somewhere. She bunched her lips to one side, then to the other, wracking her brain but coming up empty handed yet again. Ugh.

At the main thoroughfare, the boys went right and she trailed behind, looking left and right as if for a sign that said PERFECT LINCOLN GIFTS HERE, INQUIRE WITHIN. There weren't any, of course, just her luck.

Loki looked up from his phone and turned to Luke, who trudged along beside him, his hands in the pockets of his old, ratty olive green military coat. At least it looked old and ratty - that's how it came, though. It did _not,_ however, come with all the cool band patches on the arms and across the back. AC/DC. METALLICA. KORN. LED ZEPPELIN. Those came courtesy of a girl with white hair and mean sewing skills.

"Can you walk behind me or something?" Loki asked, a note of disdain in his voice, "You look homeless."

"Fuck you," Luke spat sourly, "I was _right_ at home in Bobbie last night."

Loki's face darkened, and he shot out his arm, palming Luke's shoulder hard. "I will literally beat your ass if you talk about my girl like that."

Oh, joy, Linka thought and rolled her eyes. Luke was in a bad mood because Dad grounded him for the rest of the month for giving Lars a swirlie last night. That sort of thing wasn't uncommon in the Loud house, but etiquette dictates that you flush any...leavings beforehand. Luke did not. And what he left was something that you never, ever want to get in your hair.

He was lucky she was busy talking to Lincoln and Dad got to him before she could, because she would have prescribed a much harsher punishment...she didn't know _what_ , but it wouldn't involve sitting around his room and playing guitar for the next fifteen days.

Since she didn't feel like chaperoning her brothers and yelling at them to stop bickering, she ducked between Luke and Lynn and shouldered her way through the crowd. Up ahead on the left, another man dressed like Santa sat in a throne and took pictures with toddlers screaming in fear. Poor kids, Linka remembered being in _their_ shoes, sitting on the lap of a big, scary man in red calling people hos. *Shiver*

Alright, now, what should I get Lincoln? The last couple times she saw him, they read comic books in their underwear together, which is, apparently, one of his favorite pastimes. He even did it in front of his sisters. _SInce you're me, I'm surprised you don't do the same,_ he said. Omg, no! She'd _die_ if her brothers saw her in her underwear. She didn't even really like wearing her night dress around the house except to go to the bathroom.

Wait, where was she?

Oh, yeah, comic books. He liked those far more than she did, so that option was on the table, but a comic's kind of generic for a gift, ditto a video game.

Hmmm...that left her stumped.

Lost in thought, she allowed herself to be carried by the crowd, not knowing where she was going until she was deposited in front of a store with mannequins in the window, their cold, lifeless faces staring out at passing shoppers and bearing too-wide frozen smiles. Linka's lips peeled away from her teeth in an uneasy grimace. Oh, wow, you guys aren't creepy at _all_.

Her eyes went to what they were wearing, and her budding trepidation melted away. Oooh, that dress is cute. She started to go in, but stopped herself. No. Bad Linka. You're supposed to be finding a gift for Lincoln, not browsing through racks of gowns and slips.

A light bulb appeared above her head and her eyes widened. Unless…

Tossing a wary look around to make sure none of her family members were watching, she scurried in, her head ducking. _Don't mind me, just looking for a, uh, party dress, yeah. With ruffles and a bow. Totally modest affair. Nothing dirty or revealing_ *nervous laugh*

A thin, tiled walkway wound through the store like a frozen river; on either shore, dense forests of ladies' wear rolled into forever. Women perused the racks, men sat by the changing room looking bored to tears as they waited for their wives and girlfriends, and a perky employee with a ponytail and a big, phony smile glided around like a helpful ghost. Linka turned her head left then right, taking it all in: Slacks, gowns, nighties, dresses, jeans, shoes, designer handbags, makeup. Wow, this place has it all. Your one stop girly-girl shop. She wasn't the girliest girl in girltown and usually avoided places like this, so she was a _little_ overwhelmed to say the least.

She had an idea of what to get, but, okay, one, should she? And two...God, taking it to the register's going to be so flipping embarrassing. Would they even sell her something like that? Would it even come in her size?

Hm.

That last one was a _probably,_ there were lots of grown women with the bodies of eleven-year-old girls, poor things. The one before that was _I dunno, guess I'm gonna have to find out._

Her stomach rumbled with anxiety and she held her fists to her chest. Alright, big breath. Where do I even start? I don't see….oooh, there it is. In a back corner, headless mannequins modeled sheer, frilly things in an array of colors - black, white, pink, purple, a rainbow of sexiness that probably cost more than 15.25.

Sigh. Maybe she should go somewhere else. This stuff was bound to be really expensive.

She hesitated for a moment, then forged ahead anyway; it wouldn't hurt to look. She made her way through the store and into the back corner; it was quieter than it was up front, and the lighting softer. She stood amongst the mannequins and scanned the selection: See through negligee, stockings, lacy underwear, and nightgowns so short that if you bent over, everything you had would be on full display. Which was the point. An image of her wearing one of those for Lincoln flashed across her mind and made her feel a tad flustered...okay, more than _a tad._ She saw herself bending, felt the hem of the gown riding up her hips, the silky fabric pulling up and revealing her body to his hungry eyes. A shiver went through her and her core clutched like a fist.

The last time she saw Lincoln was Halloween - all of her brothers were either at parties, trick or treating, or, in Luke's case, egging houses and soaping windows. The same held true for his sisters, except for the wanton vandalism. They met in his world and spent the evening together, the highlight being the crazy good roleplay costume sex. He was a fifties greaser complete with a little leather jacket and swept back hair, and she was Catwoman from Batman - tight black sweater, tight black pants, cat's ears, black bandit-style face mask. Lol, they pretended he was hanging out in a dark alley like a bad boy and she was a super seductive villainess whose lair was a little too lonely for her liking...if ya know what I mean.

Ummm, it was so good.

Anyway, that was closing in on two months ago, and after that long without sex, she was always one wrong move away from getting super duper turned on. It was almost as bad as it was before she met Lincoln, though not quite because at least she knew that sooner or later, he'd come over and….umf.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to stop thinking about it, because if she didn't, she'd fal down the rabbit hole and wind up so hot she'd erupt into a ball of flames and burn the place down. _The cause of yesterday's fifty alarm fire at Royal Woods Mall, police say, was a horny toad named Linka Loud. She is being held on a billion dollars bail._

Oooh, that might be a fun game to play with Lincoln: Cops and robbers...the grown up version. She could be a sexy burglar in need of a little _hard justice_ and…

Nope, moving on. She looked at the skimpy little clothes and regulated her breathing. Let's see, let's see...which would she buy if she had more than pocket change? Pink was _not_ her color, and white's kind of bland. Black? Yeah, black looks good on everyone. She went up to a mannequin clad in thin black negligee with matching bra, panties, and stockings. She curiously examined it from every angle, craning her neck this way and that, then rubbed the fabric between her thumb and forefinger like Mr. Krabs daydreaming of money. Oooh, it _felt_ nice...the sensation of it brushing over her nipples as Lincoln pulled it slowly over her head...nngh.

She searched for a price tag, found it, and gaped.

Only thirty bucks?

Oh, I am _so_ getting this.

She reached for it, but stopped. Thirty dollars was a darn good deal, but she only had fifteen to spend per person, which meant if she bought this, someone would have to go without. Linka Loud was not a perfect girl and sometimes she could be kind of a bitch, but leaving someone out on Christmas was _waaaay_ beyond the pale.

Then again, she _was_ pretty crafty...in the literal sense, she was good at crafts and stuff. Surely Pop Pop wouldn't mind a nice picture frame or a kit cap. She stared at the negligee indecisively. Lincoln would _really_ like it if she wore that for him; she could put a bow on the front, throw a Santa hat on, and kneel on the bed all alluring. _Come unwrap me, Lincy~_

Yeah, you know what? I'm doing it.

Looking guiltily around, she snatched the pieces of the outfit from their respective cubbies and checked to make sure they weren't too big. They looked okay, maybe a touch big. She'd try them on.

She clutched them to her breast and crossed to the dressing rooms, blushing like she was doing something wrong. _I'm sorry, little girl,_ she imagined the perky employee saying through her smile, _but that's_ way _too mature for you_ *snatches Lincoln's present away* _let me just put this back._

Whether she was doing wrong or not, she made it to the changing rooms unaccosted, and waited for one to free up, standing by the edge of the bench and hoping the man sitting there didn't look over, see what she was holding, and send up an alarm. _That kid's buying sexy stuff! Get her!_

Come on, was it really _that_ bad for a girl her age to buy something like this? Probably not. She was overthinking again, which was, like, her biggest vice aside from getting aroused a lot. Just last week, at dinner, as Dad went around the table asking everyone how their day was, she started thinking of Lincoln and...let's just say being so horny your face burns is pretty uncomfortable when you're surrounded by your family.

Presently, one of the doors opened and a woman came out with a stack of clothes in her arms. "Is that everything?" the man asked, a miserable whining quality to his voice.

"Yep," the woman said.

The man sighed, said "Thank God," and got to his feet. Linka waited for them to pass, then went into the booth, shutting and locking the door behind her. A tall, narrow mirror hung on the back wall, and discarded clothes hangers littered the floor. She kicked one out of the way, went to the little bench in the corner, and dropped the nelegie. She shrugged out of her coat, tossed it aside, and lifted her white sweater over her head. Beneath, she wore a pink bra with lime green trim along the top - her mother bought it because _it's so cute,_ Linka thought it made her look like she was from the eighties. _Totally tubular, dudes._

Next, she kicked off her boots and wiggled out of her black yoga pants. Her panties were yellow - she made sure her clothes matched, but why worry about her underwear? It's not like anyone's gonna see it.

Unless his name is Lincoln, and Lincoln didn't care whether her undies matched any more than she cared if _his_ matched. Well, okay, he doesn't have anything to match his briefs _with,_ but that was beside the point: All she cared about was the yummy treat within, screw the wrapper.

Ugh. Listen to me, I sound like a slut.

It'd been so long she she saw Lincoln though *pout* And that meant it had been a long time since she got off - she didn't masturbate like she used to; she saved it all for him. Which was probably dumb...but not as dumb as focusing on this stuff when you have limited time to shop.

She reached behind her back, unclasped her bra, and let it drop, then she pulled her panties down. She picked up the new bra and slipped it on. It was a _little_ roomy, but not too bad. The panties were just a hair loose around her waist, but still okay. The sheer dress piece fit juuuust right. She twisted left and right, the hem swishing across her thighs like summer grass, and looked at her reflection over her shoulder.

Yep. He'd _love_ this.

She hurriedly undressed and got back into her street clothes, then slunk out. Now...to actually _buy_ it.

A black woman with a name tag on one ample breast slouched behind the register, looking like she'd rather be somewhere else. You and me both, sister. Linka hesitated, then went over. The worst she could do was say no. At the register, she laid her purchases on the counter and darted her eyes around the room - a casual cartoon whistle-of-innocence would be too much, she figured, but she almost did it anyway.

To her surprise, the woman scanned it like little girls buying stuff specifically meant to be taken off by someone else was normal. "32.99," she said.

Relieved, Linka reached into her purse, took out two twenties, and handed them over. The woman made change and gave it back, then shoved the clothes into a white plastic bag with the store's logo emblazoned on the side. "Thank you for shopping," she muttered.

"You're welcome," Linka chirped and took the bag. Now, to get stuff for everyone else…

* * *

Before you ask, yes, Lincoln was having the same problem.

You might not know it from looking at him (dude's a fucking geek), but he was kind of proud, and one thing he _really_ prided himself on was getting his family and friends the best gifts ever. In his more reflective moments, he thought it was an attention-seeking thing - being surrounded by ten sisters, it was all too easy to get lost in the pack, and rocking everyone's world on Christmas morning was a way to stand out. Or maybe he was a kind, considerate boy who liked to see his sisters happy or something. Who knows? Either way, being the Yuletide VIP was kind of his thing, so naturally he wanted to knock Linka's socks off (and maybe other articles of clothing, too). It was their first Christmas together, so it had to be not just special but _extra_ special. So special you could only transport it on a short bus.

Joking, sorry, but seriously, Linka was precious to him in a way that no one had ever been before, so the heat was on this holiday season. He considered and rejected a thousand ideas as not good enough, knowing that nothing would ever _really_ be good enough for her so come on, guy, don't be so picky but being picky anyway. The moon and stars would suffice, but his dimension kind of needed the moon, so _that_ was out. He could always make her something, but what? He wasn't a very artsy guy - every time he tried, the results were lackluster to say the least. Hell, the attic was filled with mugs he made for his parents over the years - part of him understood why Mom and Dad packed them away, but another part...come on, your child made this for you, you're really gonna be like that?

Today, December 15, he crossed the parking lot of the Royal County Mall with his hands stuffed into his pockets and his gaze pointed firmly, and shamefully, at his feet. This was it, the big Loud family shopping day, and he had no clue what to get Linka. He didn't have much money to spend, only thirty per person, most of it earned shoveling driveways, mowing lawns, and pulling weeds. It was hard, backbreaking work, but it ensured that he had enough to get everyone something decent.

Ahead, Luan cracked a joke and everyone groaned, Luna shooting her daggers and shaking her head in disapproval. It must have been a _really_ bad one - Lincoln was thankful he didn't hear it.

"Stop breathing on my neck," Lola spat at Lana over her shoulder.

"Get your neck out of my way," Lana retorted.

"Girls," Dad said firmly, and they dropped it, Lola sneering at her twin before turning back. At the main doors, a guy dressed as Santa stood next to a red kettle and rang a bell. Everyone passed him by without so much as a glance, and Lincoln felt bad, so he shoved a dollar into the slot. Inside, the mall was thronged with people, a low, rumbling chatter choking the air. To the left, the food court opened up, a sea of tables and chairs packed with hungry diners chowing down on burgers, Chinese food, and pizza. The clashing smells of a dozen different types of cuisine found Lincoln's nose, and his stomach rumbled. That Quiznos is looking on point, got meats and cheeses in all the right places.

Dad crossed to the directory and studied it with his hands on his hips like he _hadn't_ been here a thousand times before. This place wasn't exactly new - in fact, Dad met Mom for the first time outside of Forever 21. Back then it was a place called Radio Shack. Guess they sold radios. _It was September 1997,_ Dad said once, _and the guys from Sugar Ray were signing autographs at The Vinyl Countdown._ They were in line and someone bumped into Dad, shoving him into _a hot, skinny, bodacious blonde_ who turned out to be Mom. They bonded over their love of _Friends, Titanic,_ and, idk, other nineties shit.

Anyway, yeah, lots of her Loudstory here...and Dad still fronts like he can't find his way around. "Alright, everyone, we'll meet back here in an hour and a half," he said.

Everyone dispersed like drunks leaving a bar, and Lincoln went left at random, winding up behind Lucy, Lana, and Lisa. Christmas lights, garland, and other festive decorations were strung here and there, wound around the railing of the stairs to the upper level and ringing storefront windows. Music played over the loudspeakers, and Lincoln cocked his head to hear it over the crowd noise. Sounded like Silent Night.

That reminded him of the movie _Silent Night, Deadly Night,_ some dumb horror thing Lucy had him watch with her last year. Guy dresses up as Santa and runs around hacking people up with an ax. Lincoln thought it was hilarious that every time "Santa" attacked someone, he yelled " _PUNISH!"_ Damn, Kris, chill; whatever happened to just leaving bad kids a lump of coal?

He sighed and looked around as though the perfect Linka gift would magically materialize in front of him, but nope, nothing.

Damn it.

I gotta think of something fast, or she's going to wind up with a gift unbefitting a queen, and since she _is_ a queen, that's a slap in the face. He pictured her sitting on a golden throne and he, her loyal subject, bowing before her...then rubbing her feet slowly and sensually, skimming his fingers up her ankles and the backs of her silky legs. She stared down at him with a diffident expression, then nodded curtly for him to continue. He moved aside her regal vestments to reveal the dank juncture of her thighs, pink like a flower in bloom. Her scent rolled into his nose and…

A thunderbolt of alarm struck him in the guts when he realized he was starting to get hard. Heart in throat, he bent roughly forward to hide it and came to a shuffling stop. Someone bumped into him and drove him forward; someone else clipped him and pushed him into the doorway of a shop (no bodacious blonde for him). Jesus, people are rude.

Luckily, rudeness was a huge turn off, so his budding erection died. Dusting himself off, he looked around and realized he was standing in front of a jewelry store; a little village was spread out on the inside of the window, white tufts of cotton serving as snow. Electric candles provided a warm, nostalgic glow that put Lincoln in mind of old timey Christmases from the eighties or something. Beyond, glass display cases faced each other and…

Eureka!

I don't mean to brag, but I am _good..._ even when I'm not trying to be.

Basking in his accomplishment, he went in and crossed to one of the cases. Inside, bracelets, chains, rings, and watches of every description shimmered under sepia toned lighting. Lincoln scanned them and absently clamped his bottom lip between his teeth. Wow, that's a lot to choose from. What would she like? She wasn't a jewelry kind of girl, but she did wear earrings, and she had a jewellery box full of gold and silver trinkets she put on for _special occasions_ whatever _those_ were (she didn't do it when he came over, so apparently seeing her boyfriend wasn't special enough :Unamused emoji:). He hummed thoughtfully in the back of his throat and swept his gaze back and forth. When someone spoke from behind the counter, he jumped.

"See anything you like?"

He looked up to find a man watching him, his hands splayed on the case and his glasses sliding down his narrow nose. He was fiftyish with curly black hair beginning to streak with gray and a thick mustache that chilled on his upper lip like a stoned caterpillar. His hound dog eyes were faded blue and creases radiated from the corners of his mouth like spider-vein cracks.

Lincoln answered honestly. "I don't know. I'm looking for a gift for…for my girlfriend."

Even though he'd had sex with a girl before and was officially a man (that's how it works, right?), he was still a little shy about using _that_ word. It made him stumble and blush like a little boy to whom holding hands was the apex of boy-girl relationships: Dark, mysterious, and scary...but highly desirable.

The man waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Girlfriend, huh?"

Okay, I remember why it makes me blush now - people make such a big deal about it. _Aww, you have a girlfwind? How cute._

"Yeah," Lincoln said, "my girlfriend."

"Well, I know a thing or two about girlfriends," the man said and pulled a ring of keys off his belt, "and I think I have just what you need." He walked toward the register, inserted a key into a lock, and turned it, opening the case and reaching in. Lincoln went over and stood there while the man rummaged around, his mind wandering to his upcoming trip to Linka's world - December 20 was the big day, and you know what? He was far more excited for that than Christmas; Lisa and Levi set the date back in November, and ever since, Lincoln's anticipation had been growing with every passing minute. Days stretched into centuries, weeks into infinity; he was restless, giddy, impatient, and a thousand other things that all boiled down to _I'm really happy to see Linka...I miss her like crazy._ Her voice, her laugh, the feeling of her hand twined with his.

The man drew something from the case, stood, and leaned over the counter, his elbows planting into the glass. Lincoln stood up on his tippy toes to see what he had.

A silver chain lay across his big, calloused palm, a heart pendant roughly the size of a dollar coin dangling like a pendulum. "This here," he said, looking from the necklace to Lincoln, his expression one of a man imparting a great and awesome secret, "is a classic. It might not be big and fancy but" - here he held up his index finger - "it means something." He stared at Lincoln over the tops of his glasses. "Do you know what?"

Uh, no, he didn't. "That you're giving her a gift and it comes from the heart?" he asked haltingly.

The man scrunched his lips to the side and tilted his head as if to concede the point. "Kind of. It means that you are _giving her your heart._ "

Lincoln opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he felt a laugh bubbling up in his throat. Oh, wow, that was cornier than Aunt Ruth's feet. _You're giving her your heart d'awwww_ *hangs wrist limply*

Buuuut...symbolically and ceremonially giving his heart to Linka, declaring his never ending love for her (something he hadn't done yet) would be a pretty nice gift, wouldn't it?

"How much?" Lincoln asked.

"Fifty," the man said, and Lincoln's spirits dropped a little. Aw, man, fifty bucks? He could do it, but that meant taking twenty from someone else's money. Looking at the heart, swinging back and forth, he made up his mind.

He was going to do it.

The man leaned farther over and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "And since you're a boy in love, I'll throw in free engraving." He opened the heart. "Your name on one side, hers on the other."

Shut up and take my money! "Okay."

"Alright," the man said with a grin, "what's your girlfriend's name?"

"Linka," Lincoln said, and his heartbeat quickened. Just speaking it was enough to melt him into a warm, sappy puddle. Don't tell anyone, but sometimes he sat alone in his room and said it over and over again, cherishing the way it felt on his lips.

"Linka," the man repeated, rolling it over his tongue like a strange and interesting vintage. "Hm. That's a new one on me. Pretty, though. What about yours?"

"Lincoln."

The man's grin widened. "Lincoln and Linka. That's cute. Give me twenty minutes and I'll have this ready."

While he did that, Lincoln decided to hit FYE next door. He _was_ planning on getting Luna a portable record player since she wanted to be old school all of a sudden, but now he'd have to go cheap, might as well be on her. They had a pretty sweet selection of used CDs that sold for three bucks a pop, so he could grab a couple of those and call it a day. Luna wasn't picky. Unlike Lola. God, he could _not_ skimp on Lola, she'd throw a hissy fit. Last year, Leni made the mistake of getting her socks and...well...let's just say Leni's sunglasses went missing, and when they finally turned up, they had to use dental records to identify them.

Hands in pockets, he left the jewelry shop and fought his way through the crowd. In FYE, he made a B-line for the USED section, ducking around shoppers and displays of DVDs and merchandise too geeky even for him - I see you, Steven Universe. When he reached the aisle where all the second hand stuff dwelled like deja vu, he started his search, flipping through yesterday's top forty hits (Stingray 5000? What's this doing here? These guys rock). He settled for _Powerage_ by AC/DC, _Master of Puppets_ by Metallica, and a compilation of songs by her favorite band, The Falling Rocks (fronted by Mick Swagger, of course). It was called _Sucking in the Eighties._ Literally, the title was insulting the tracks...he let out a nasty laugh and he thought Luna would too. Or she'd get mad. _None of their stuff sucks, mate, pip pip cheerio, America-plz-save-us-from-the-Germans._ That was supposed to be a list of things British people said a lot.

He took his purchases to the register and waited in line. When his turn came, he paid, took his bag, and went back to the jewelry shop. The man was waiting, one arm bent on the counter, lending him the appearance of a barkeep. "All done," he said with a hint of pride. Lincoln's eyes went to a small silver colored box sitting before him. The man patted it. "Your girl's gonna love it."

 _You're only saying that because you want my money,_ Lincoln thought. Or maybe he really did know what he was talking about.

Lincoln took took his wallet from his back pocket, slipped out two twenties and a ten, and handed them over. The man took them and pushed the box across the counter. "Merry Christmas," he said.

"You too," Lincoln said. He dropped the box into the FYE bag and left, his step light and springy. Well, _that's_ out of the way, whew.

Now for everyone else.

* * *

Linka hugged herself against a shiver and bounced a little as if bending her knees would generate warmth; it didn't. At all.

She was standing at the bottom of a steep hill three streets over from Franklin Avenue: A wood stockade fence marched along the summit, bordering people's backyards, and behind her, barren trees clustered together in the snow like skeletons huddling against the icy wind. Kids zoomed down the slope on sleds, screaming and pinwheeling their arms, then trudged back up to do it again. She must have counted twenty of them, some younger but many her age - boys, girls, black, white..everyone was having fun.

Except for her.

"I'm f-f-freezing," she chattered and turned to Lars, who sat on a ragged stump, his body bent forward and his hands clasped to his knees.

"I don't feel anything," he said, and Linka got the impression that he wasn't _just_ talking about the cold. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Lars's goth act got _really_ annoying sometimes. _My cold, dead, black heart; I wish I slept in a coffin; I like Evanescence unironically._ He was always talking about darkness and morbid stuff - serial killers, vampires, Democrats.

That last one was a joke, but you get the picture.

Linka scanned the hilltop and spotted Lexx and Leif with a group of boys preparing to go down the hill. This is the _last_ time, then we're leaving.

She'd been saying the same thing for nearly half an hour, but every time she saw them streaking down the incline, their faces glowing and childlike laughter hitching from their throats, she changed her mind. She was soft and mushy when it came to her little brothers, file a lawsuit.

Actually, don't, I need to keep what little money I have.

A stiff gust of wind knocked into her, and she moaned in misery. You'd think that being a Michigan girl, she'd be used to prolonged exposure to extreme cold, but you'd be wrong. She loved playing in the snow, but she couldn't take _hours_ of it. Nossir. If she stayed out more than sixty minutes, she turned into a Linkasicle, and it took _lots_ of hot cocoa to thaw her out.

Lars sighed in contentment. "It's like a hospital morgue out here," he said, his voice flat as week old soda, "I love it."

An image of him lying on a metal gurney, dead, flashed across her mind, and her stomach clutched. "Can you stop?" she snapped. "This death stuff really bothers me. You have _no_ reason to want to die."

He turned his head and looked up at her, his eyes hidden behind his bangs. "Yes, I do," he said.

Though he spoke in a perpetual monotone, Linka had learned to tell when he was serious or not (call it big sister's intuition), and right now, she realized with a missed heartbeat, he was being serious. "Why?" she demanded, her voice sharp with alarm.

For a moment he simply stared at her, then said, "You'd feel the same way if everyone always picked on you." Uncharacteristic emotion crept into his voice as he spoke - bitterness. "I can't even walk out of my room without catching it."

In Linka's family - among the boys, at least - 'roasting' was a normal, everyday occurrence. She thought it was dumb, but she thought a lot of the things they did were dumb. That's to say: Lars wasn't the only target. Lane got picked on, Leif and Lexx got picked on, Luke got picked on, Loni got picked on, even Loki got picked on. It was all in fun, though, right?

Looking into her younger brother's face, she couldn't say it was. Was it really so bad that he wanted to die?

He must have seen a flash of horror in her face: He turned away and stared up at the top of the hill where Leif and Lexx were waiting in line to go down. "It just gets to me sometimes," he said, "it's not like I really wanna kill myself or anything."

Maybe she was overreacting, but she swore she heard pain in his voice. Her heart shattered, and she went over to him, her hand going to his shoulder. "Lars," she said softly, solemnly, "if it bothers you like that, tell them to stop."

"That'll just make it worse," he said.

She started to say something, but stopped. Okay, she could see that. Her brothers were like sharks sometimes, and the slightest hint of weakness was like a whiff of blood. She admonished them where she could, but she wasn't always around, and the moment her back was turned, they went right back to it.

"Maybe I can talk to -"

Lars's head whipped around. "No," he said quickly, "that'll _really_ make it worse."

She sighed. "Well, if it hurts you that bad, you have to do _something_." She rubbed a comforting circle between his shoulder blades and forced a tight-lipped smile. She got that it might look bad to have his sister fight his battles for him, but she loved her brothers and bad or not, she _would_ fight their battles if they needed her to.

Within reason.

"I'll deal with it," Lars said and looked away. "Don't worry about it."

She did, though; in fact, she was still worrying when they got home an hour later, but her concern for Lars's emotional well-being took a temporary back seat to _wow, my face is frozen and my fingers are numb._ She stripped out of her jacket and boots, both of which were sodden, then went to the pantry, grabbed a packet of coca mix, and, five minutes later, sat at the table with a steaming mug of chocolatey goodness. The worst part about coca is having to wait for it to cool down before you can drink it. Mom used to put ice cubes in it, but that kind of defeated the purpose.

As she blew ripples in the surface, she thought back to Lars and his predicament. She felt really bad for him and wanted to do something, but he was right, if she bitched at Luke and Loki (the two main bullies in the house), they'd just pick on him twice as hard. The fact that Lars even said anything about it told her that it really troubled him, though, and she didn't want him suffering. _I can't even leave my room without catching it._ He did spend a lot of time by himself...maybe because the others picked on him so much?

When she was in third grade, she got picked on a lot. One girl named Stacy never missed an opportunity to call her ugly or make fun of her for having white hair. She'd wear a new skirt or hair clip and feel so pretty...then Stacy would make her feel like garbage.

She knew, then, what it was like to be bullied, and the more she thought about it, the more she hated that Lars felt the way she did back then.

Despite him asking her to stay out of it, she was tempted to give the others a dressing down they would never forget. She might even draw blood.

She took a sip of her coca and sighed. Brothers are hard work.

Her mind went to Lincoln. _He_ had all sisters and never had to deal with crap like this.

Lucky dog.

* * *

Lincoln Loud stepped back, put his hands on his hips, and studied the snowman before him, looking for flaws and finding them, but not caring because overall, it looked pretty good. Nice, smooth edges; perfectly proportioned dimensions; uh...that's pretty much it, snowmen aren't all that complex. One twig arm was _much_ shorter than the other, though, which kind of bothered the persnickety OCD part of him. He tilted his head from side to side, trying to find an angle from which the arm _didn't_ look dumb but failing. He couldn't help thinking of that guy from _Scary Movie 2;_ he had a normal hand...and a tiny, twisted, deformed hand that was supposedly the stronger of the two.

It wasn't.

"So?" Lana asked hopefully. She knelt in the snow, a pair of earmuffs arched over the top of her cap and her hands resting on her knees. This was largely her project, he played an advisory role and stepped in here and there to lend a hand.

All things considered, it was a damn good snowman, better than any he made at her age. To be fair, though, he didn't think he ever completed one back then - he'd get half way through before Lynn flew out of nowhere and tackled it. He'd be shaping and molding it, minding his own business, then hear _He's got the ball!_ He'd look up just as Lynn exploded into it in a shower of white. One time he got so mad over it he pulled her hair. Hard.

Lana watched him expectantly, her big brown eyes shimmering like two pool of murky water. "It's the best damn snowman _I_ ever saw," he said.

"Really?" she asked with a note of excitement.

He nodded. "Yep. In fact -"

Just then, he spotted Lola in her pink princess Jeep coming up fast, her eyes slitted and her body hunched determinedly over the wheel. He knew in an instant what she was going to do, and that there was no stopping…

The Jeep slammed into the snowman, and it blew apart like a Palestinian suicide bomber in a Jerusalem market. Snow splashed across Lincoln in a frigid wave; snow covered Lana like a blanket; the snowman's head fell off and landed on top of Lola, shattering and covering her too.

For a moment, nothing happened, then Lana jumped to her feet, her shoulders lifting and falling in rage and her nostrils flaring. Lola climbed out of the Jeep and stumbled, one gloved hand wiping snow from her eyes. "That's for -"

Lana shoved her twin as hard as she could; Lola fell back against the Jeep, then toppled to one side, landing in a soft, pillowy drift. Lana balled her fists and brought them up; Lincoln's heart jumped, and before he knew he was even moving, he was pulling Lana away by the back of her jacket. Lana cried out and kicked at Lola's frightened face, the tips of the former's boots missing the latter's face by mere inches. "Let me go!" Lana cried. She thrashed in Lincoln's grip like a small but powerful animal. He tightened his grip and braced his feet against the ground, far enough apart that he wouldn't lose his balance.

"Stop!" he commanded.

"That bitch ruined my snowman!" Lana shouted.

Well...that was true...but even if Lola might deserve a beatdown, he wasn't going to let her get one on _his_ watch. "You need to calm down," he said firmly, "I will deal with her."

Making a snooty little _humph_ sound, Lola got to her feet and dusted herself off. Lana threw one last kick then fell still, the only sound her jagged breathing. Lincoln turned away and faced her toward the house, then leaned into her ear. He needed a bargaining chip to ensure she behaved herself, and he had just the bribe. "If you let it go," he whispered, "I will ask Mrs. Johnson if I can borrow Frank over Christmas break...and you can have him the _whole_ time."

Lana stiffened...then turned her head, her eyes wide with wonder. "The _whole_ time?" she asked.

"Yep," Lincoln confirmed with a nod, "two plus weeks of you, Frank, and all the gross bug eating you can stand."

A happy smile broke across her face and she beamed like a lamp. Ha, mission accomplished. "Okay," she piped.

With that, he released her shoulder and she wandered off. Alone, he turned on Lola, who stood against the Jeep with her arms crossed defensively over her chest, her nose turned up and her eyes rolled to the side. _I'm too good for this; this is simply unacceptable._ Lola was...how to put this mildly...kind of a bitch. She labored under the perpetual delusion that competing in beauty pageants and being _cool with the lines_ as Rick Springfield might say, made her better than everyone. She was high maintenance, snobbish, and bratty. She had her good moments, and every once in a while she learned a valuable lesson and made the commendable effort to improve herself, but she still did shit like _this_ far too often.

Lincoln sighed and went over, standing in front of her like a stern parent getting ready to lay down the law...which, he guessed, he kind of was. "Why did you do that?" he demanded.

"Payback," Lola said without looking at him. A cold gust of wind ruffled her blonde hair and made ripples in the puffy fabric of her pink jacket.

Rolling his eyes, Lincoln asked, "For what?"

One of Lola's many bad traits was being spiteful and vindictive. A while back, she was having a tea party in the backyard with her stuffed animals at the same time Lynn was tossing the ole pigskin - you can imagine what happened. The ball landed in the middle of the table like a bomb, and Lola walked away drenched. It was completely accidental and Lynn profusely apologized...but that didn't stop Lola from exacting her revenge two days later by murdering every ball Lynn owed with a butcher knife. If you crossed Lola, that is, even if you didn't mean to, even if you didn't _know_ you did, you were liable to pay.

"Breathing down my neck at the mall," Lola said.

Lincoln blinked. Really? _That's_ what she was upset about? Lana accidentally breathing on her? Oy vey. "You seriously kamikazed the snowman that Lana spent an hour building just because she breathed on you?"

Lola turned her head, and Lincoln followed her gaze: Lana knelt in the pile of her broken dreams, her shoulder slumped and her head hung; she looked for all the world like a little girl kneeling at the grave of a loved one gone too soon.

A flicker of guilt crossed Lola's face, and the hardness in her eyes softened a little. Seeing the chin in her armor, Lincoln grabbed his metaphorical crowbar, jammed it in, and pushed. "That's really low," he said, making sure to inject his tone with the perfect amount of outrage and disappointment. Lola looked up at him, her expression pinched with contrition, and he pointedly shook his head then turned away. Across the yard, Luna picked up a handful of snow, packed it, and threw it at Luan, who stood with her back to her older sister. It hit her shoulder and she spun around; Luna arched her brows as if to say _what are you gonna do?_ Luan grinned deviously, stooped down, and picked up her own snowball.

Eh, he _was_ gonna go over there while Lola processed her thoughts, but he didn't feel like getting smashed in the face with a snowball, so he went to the porch instead. When he turned and sat on the top step, he was surprised to see Lola already kneeling next to Lana and apologizing. Huh. He didn't expect that for _at_ least another… *checks watch* five minutes.

Heh. Guess I beat my own best time.

As he watched, they hugged, then started building another snowman.

Oh, yeah, I am _good_ ,

He sighed contentedly and allowed his thoughts back to Linka. Five days. Not long at all.

Yeah, no, actually, it was - December 20 might as well be on the other side of forever.

Not for the first time, he wondered what their future held. He already knew in his heart that he wanted to be with Linka for the rest of his life (and then some), but there were so many logistical factors to consider that it really bogged him down. It's better to think of those things than of how much he missed her, so that's what he did now. First of all, they lived in two separate universes, which meant one of them would have to leave their family (and, indeed, the world they knew). Then, once they were there...how would _that_ work? Say he moved to Linka's world. Okay, great. There, he did not exist. He had no birth certificate, no social security number, nothing, and those are vital. You can't get a job without an SSN; you can't get an ID card; you can't get shit. Officially, you're a nonentity.

If Linka got a high paying job, it wouldn't really matter he supposed, and the same went for him if Linka moved here. He pictured them living in a little house on a quiet street, white picket fence, idk, gazing ball in the yard or something, and a dreamy smile played at the corner of his lips. He'd walk into the kitchen in the morning and find her cooking breakfast, then he'd hug her from behind and kiss the side of her neck. She'd laugh and shove a piece of bacon into his mouth, then, after they ate, they'd curl up on the couch together and watch the news or a movie or even a cartoon - it didn't matter just so long as they had each other, her head and hand resting on his chest and his arm around her shoulder. Happy. In love. Relishing each other and the love they had for one another. Ahh. If you asked him, that was _the_ life. They could live in a single wide at the trailer park and he wouldn't care - she was his world, not any house or apartment.

Sappy, yeah, but it's okay to be sappy over the girl you love. Women are soft and warm for a reason - because even hard nosed badasses needed to be tender and gentle every once in a while.

Like a sucker punch in the dark, something occurred to him. If, and when, he and Linka lived together, it'd be a little weird...you know, since they looked so much alike. I mean, it'd look strange to other people. _That guy at the next table over and the girl he keeps kissing on_ have _to be twins, look at 'em. Gross._ Hmm, they'd certainly face a lot of challenges in _that_ department. Maybe he could dye his hair?

Eh, their faces would still look the same, though.

Plastic surgery?

Uhhh...maybe. He'd be the one to bite the bullet, though, because he didn't want Linka to change a thing - she was beautiful and perfect. Knowing her the way he did, she probably felt the same about him, so she'd fight him on it.

Quite the conundrum.

Lola and Lana were standing now, their snowman level with their chests, Lana patting down one side, the tip of her tongue plastered to her upper lip, and Lola smoothing out the other. The light, airy sound of their laughter was music to Lincoln's ears. Playing guidance counselor to his sisters got old as fuck sometimes, but in the end, it was worth it.

"Ow! You stupid bitch!"

He looked to his right; Luan lay on her back, her hand pressed to her forehead. Luna stood ten feet away, grinning. Looks like someone caught a snowball to the face. "Gotta be quicker next time, Chuckles," Luna said.

"Fuck you, ho," Luan said.

Lincoln sighed.

It's worth it, he told himself as he got up to go mediate.

Then Luan jumped up, grabbed some snow, packed it, and threw it at Luna, missing and hitting Lincoln in the face.

Alright, never mind, he thought as he turned back, they can deal with their own issues for once.


	10. And Then It All Goes Wrong

**LiteralTrash001: Nope, the real "real" world is the one where Reeling in the Years is happening. Everything else ever, including stories by other authors, fan art, and the show itself, is an AU.**

 **STR2D3PO: Mountain Dew is alright, but Lincoln's right, Coke is best.**

 **MrNonsense: :hug:**

* * *

On the morning of December 20, Linka shuffled into the kitchen like a corpse risen from the dead: Shoulders slumped, head hung, long, broken moans rising from her throat. Her bare feet scraped the linoleum with a _scritch-scritch_ sound, and her flannel nightgown rustled around her knees like the soft whisper of dead leaves. She bumped into the fridge, said "'Cuse me," and went to the coffee pot, navigating by its telltale rattle alone.

Linka was not a morning person, but today was especially rough; she was so excited for her upcoming date with Lincoln that she didn't sleep a freaking wink. She laid there, hand gripping the blanket, and grinned up into the darkness like a fool. Every time she tried to close her eyes, they popped back open, and when she tried to switch her mind off, it rebooted like a PC that didn't want to shut down. _I'm sorry, Linka, I'm afraid I can't do that._

That was from a movie she watched called _2001: A Space Odyssey._ There was this computer and he...well, she couldn't remember, but a guy told it to do something and it was all _lol, sry, bro, nah._ Her mind did the same thing...hour after hour after hour. _You know, the faster we go to sleep, the faster tomorrow will be here,_ she told herself at one point.

Nope. Didn't work. She was wide awake the whole night. By the time 4am rolled around, she figured she was a lost cause, got up, and played games on her phone for a while...which turned into looking at pictures of her and Lincoln. The one with her on his back, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms thrown around his neck, and her chin resting on his shoulder, their cheeks pressed together, was her absolute favorite. She would _totally_ make it her wallpaper but someone might see and be like _Linka...why does that boy look exactly like you?_

Uh...we didn't turn the flash on?

Okay, that was dumb, but she was flipping exhausted, okay?

At the counter, she grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured herself big old cupful of coffee. She didn't really like this stuff, but she needed _something_ to put some pep in her step.

Wonder if Luke has any coke?

If he did, first of all, she wouldn't take any of it because drugs are lame, and two, he'd better be right with his God, cuz she'd open a can on him.

A can of whupass.

(Patent pending).

Seriously, if she found out any of her brothers were doing drugs, she'd pop off.

Picking up a shaker of sugar, she added it to her coffee and threw her head back with a groan. Ugh, her eyes felt like a musclehead kicked sand in them, and a hot twinge in her forehead threatened to turn into a full-blown headache if it wasn't nipped in the butt. She really wished Lincoln was here right now; he could wrap his arms around her from the back, pull her close to his chest, and nuzzle her neck like an affectionate dog. Ooooh, that'd make her feel better. Then he could slip his hands…

No. Bad Linka. It's too early for this.

Turning around, she leaned back against the counter and brought the mug to her lips, blowing a little curl of steam away. Lynn came into the kitchen, looking as tired as she felt, and crossed to the pantry, where he grabbed a box of cereal and brought it to the counter. "Ugh," he greeted, like a caveman.

"Uhhh," Linka returned - her voice box wasn't ready to start its shift, so that was all he was getting.

Smacking his lips, he got a bowl from the cabinet, filled it, and went out into the dining room...then backed up, opened the fridge, and took out the milk. He left again, then came back again, this time for a spoon. Linka watched, and when he was gone, she took a sip of her coffee.

Then spat it out. Oh, yuck! What's wrong with my joe? She looked around and whoops, that wasn't sugar...that was salt.

She dumped the ruined coffee into the sink and poured some more. Luke, Loki, Loni, and Lane drifted in, dumped cereal into bowls, and went into the dining room as she sipped her fresh, not salt-i-nated brew, its heat spreading through her and perking her up just enough to feel human again.

Taking her coffee into the dining room, she sat in the chair next to Lane and took a drink, the boiling liquid burning her lips and her throat.

"Morning, Link," Lane chirruped. _He_ , unlike her, loved mornings. He said he came up with his best jokes before noon...guess he's only been telling us the ones he came up with _after_ noon.

Wow, that was mean! Lol. Grumpy Linka. "Good morning," she said.

"You look like you _literally_ didn't sleep last night," Loki stated without looking up from his phone. "Are you feeling okay?"

Everyone looked at her, and a chunk of ice dropped into her stomach. Uh-oh. To say her brothers could overreact at times would be like saying a few people got injured in the Holocaust: A massive understatement. The last time she had the sniffles, they forced her to lay on the couch, under a heap of blankets, and eat chicken stock - she _hated_ chicken stock, and after fifteen minutes, she was so hot from all the covers she felt like she was going to melt. When she tried to get up, Loni told her she might die if she didn't lay back down. Then he started crying.

Needless to say, she did _not_ want them thinking she was sick. "I'm fine. I just..stayed up late playing games."

"You gotta get a solid eight, sis," Luke said with a touch of concern. "Beauty sleep's important." A glint entered his eye. "You don't get enough, you'll wind up looking like Lane."

Loki snorted. "When it comes to beauty sleep, he's an insomniac."

He and Luke snickered; Lane crinkled his nose and mocked their laughter in a high, tittering falsetto.

Great, another breakfast roast. Lovely. Linka tuned them out and took a sip of her coffee. What time was it? She twisted around and glanced at the clock on the wall. 8:52. Lincoln would be here at 2:30 - five and a half hours.

Has Levi invented a time machine yet? Because if he hasn't, he needs to get on it pronto.

Imagine how handy having one of those would be; you'd never have to wait for anything ever again. Line outside the bathroom? Crank the knob and jump fifteen minutes into the future. Fail a big, important test? No problem, go back and take it as many times as you like. Just don't bump into your past self or the universe will implode.

She finished the last of her coffee and stared into the empty mug, her lips scrunched to one side. Five hours is a _really_ long time, how was she going to fill it? Obviously she was going to shower and put on makeup (since this was a _super_ special occasion, their first Christmas together...even though it wasn't really Christmas), but that came later. Can't be fresh and clean if you shower _too_ soon. She couldn't sit around, though, because if she did, she'd go crazy with anticipation.

Maybe she'd hang out with Claudia.

Yeah, that'd distract her. A little. Kind of. Somewhat. Not at all.

Getting up, she took her mug into the kitchen, rinsed it out, and went upstairs, passing Leif and Lexx in the living room, Lexx with his head high and nose pointed up and Leif already (mysteriously) covered in dirt. "Morning, Link!" Leif piped.

"Good morning, Linka," Lexx said.

"Morning," she replied.

In the dining room, Luke sat back from his bowl and glanced at Lane. Now that Linka was gone, the fun could _really_ begin. "Anyone ever tell you you look like a faggot?" he asked.

"Anyone ever tell you your faux-hawk makes you look like a retard?" Lane retorted.

Loki laughed, and Luke clenched his jaw. "It's not a faux-hawk."

"Yes it is," Lexx said dispassionately as he went into the kitchen.

Leif tilted his head and regarded Luke for a moment. "It looks dumb whatever it is."

"Dude, it _is_ a faux-hawk," Loki said. "It's like you're not cool enough for the real thing, so you go for the fake look."

Okay, _that_ was uncalled for. If there was one thing in the world Luke Loud was not, it was fake. Sure, he might brag about banging girls even though he'd never gotten to third base, and maybe he acted tougher than he really was sometimes, but he was still legit. "You're the _last_ person who should be talking about someone's hair," he said and shot out his hand, tickling Loki's hair chin. "With these pubes on your face. Does the carpet match the drapes, Princess?"

Loki smacked his hand away and Lane laughed. "He doesn't _have_ a carpet - Bobbie makes him wax."

A blush burst across Loki's face which told Luke that maybe she did. "No she doesn't," the older boy said. "She likes it all natural."

Luke blew a raspberry. "Shut up, I bet you never even got to second base with her."

"What's second base?" Leif asked as he sat his bowl on the table and dropped into an empty chair. Lexx took the one next to him and ignored the proceedings like he was too good for everyone.

Making a mental note to target his beauty queen of a brother next, Luke said, "Ask Loki...oh wait, he doesn't know either."

Flashing, Loki punched Luke's arm, and Luke jumped. "Shut the fuck up, fag. Go suck Sam's dick some more."

"I never sucked his dick," Luke said and rubbed his arm. He was into girls and girls only; maybe chicks are open to swinging both ways, but not him. Nope. No way. Not at all. He _never_ thought about kissing Sam and touching his junk. Pfft, what do you think he is, a homo?

"Do you spit or swallow?" Loki asked.

"Neither," Luke said indignantly.

"So you take it on the face?" Lane asked.

"He likes it when Sam cums on his dick," Loki said.

Now Luke was starting to get mad. "Fuck you guys," he grumbled, "always talking that gay shit. _You're_ the fags." He crossed his arms with a defiant flourish.

"You wear boots, an earring, and tight pants," Loki said, "you are _literally_ the poster boy for being gay."

"No I'm fucking not," Luke growled.

"Too bad Sam's not gay for you the way you are for him."

Luke snapped. He pushed back from the table and jumped up, knocking the chair over. A ball of hot anger throbbed in the center of his chest and his face blushed so hard he felt like his skin was gonna blister. He balled his fist and _almost_ threw a punch at Loki, but stopped himself at the last minute and stormed off instead, shoulder checking Lars' bitch ass on the way out. He pounded up the stairs, stalked into his room, and slammed the door behind him so hard it shook in its frame.

Fuck those assholes. _Sam doesn't feel the same way about you._ Well...it'd be great if he did.

Gay! I meant gay not great! And I don't feel _shit_ for him, no matter _what_ Loki says. He's the one who likes dudes; probably dating Bobbie just so he can get close to Ron, fucking homo.

Luke dropped onto his bed and took a deep breath through his nose.

He wasn't gay.

He _wasn't_.

* * *

Lincoln Loud passed the day in a state of restless discomfort, unable to sit still or think of anything but Linka - being in love sucked sometimes. Does Lisa have a drug to blunt it a little?

Man, imagine if she did; she'd make millions, no, _billions_. The girl you're into isn't into you? Pop one of Dr. Lise's Love-B-Gones and wah-la, no more moping, listening to sad songs, and filling the void in your heart with drugs, loveless sex, or Dungeons and Dragons. Your daughter's head-over-heels for a guy named Scar whose face is one big, unemployable tattoo? Crush up a couple tablets, sprinkle it in her dinner, and watch as she turns into a frigid bitch. _Debbie Johnson - Armand, Kentucky: Before Love-B-Gone, my son was a filthy homosexual, now he has no one and I've never been happier. Thanks, Dr. Lise!_

Sigh. He didn't wanna fall out of love with Linka, he just didn't want to be so fucking consumed with it that made him feel like _this_. Love is like alcohol, when you think about it: It's medicine...and it's poison.

Presently, he sat on the edge of his bed with his hands splayed on his knees, his head slightly bowed and his shoulders slumped. He just got back from Clyde's house, where he spent two hours trying and failing to lose himself in _Steal That Car: Sin City._ Normally he loved shooting hookers, beating homeless people to death with blunt objects, and dying in police shootouts, but today his focus was so bad that at one point, while thinking of kissing Linka, he drove his car off a bridge and drowned.

SIghing, he snatched his phone off the nightstand and checked the time.

1:45.

His heart skipped a beat and his stomach did a somersault. In less than an hour, he and Lisa would pack into the teleporter, push a couple of buttons, and cross an infinite gulf of time and space on the other side of which was Linka. He was nervous, excited, happy, and impatient, and if he didn't distract himself right now, he'd pull his hair out, dive head-first through the window, and plummet to the ground like The Falling Man.

A shower, right, he needed a shower.

Getting up, he grabbed his towel and a fresh change of clothes (opting for the red undies Lola bought him...Linka liked those) and went into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him, threw the towel over the rod, and laid his clothes on the closed toilet lid. Thinking twice, he moved them to the sinktop; you never know when someone's gonna need to _really pee_ or, dear God, _bomb the bowl_ , and he didn't feel like having his clean, wrinkle-free clothes flung aside like a stripper's thong.

People made such a big deal about him being "kind" and "considerate." No, he just wasn't a fucking asshole. The Bible said _do unto others as you would have them do unto you_ and whether that came directly from the mouth of God or not, it was a pretty good philosophy. Would he want his shit thrown on the ground? Nope, so why would he do it to someone else? He loved his sisters and all, but they could be so fucking rude sometimes, and it drove him crazy.

He stripped to his underwear, hopped into the shower, then pulled them off and tossed them over the top. Speaking of rude, they also had a problem with the concept of "privacy" and "personal space." He couldn't count the number of times he was reading a comic or playing a video game in his room when one of them just barged right in. _Lincy, I need your opinion_. Uh, no, you need to knock. Thankfully none of them ever caught him in a compromising - actually, wait, Lisa did.

Wow, he forgot how embarrassing that was

On the other hand, it lead Lisa to hook up with Levi and introduce him to Linka, so all in all, it was worth it. He just wished it didn't take his sister walking in on him masturbating.

He turned the bath on, adjusted the temperature, then pulled the converter: Hot water cascaded over him like a gentle summer rain, and he shivered in delight. Nothing quite as nice as a hot shower, amirite? Especially on really cold days. During the winter, he could spend hours in here, letting the water pound down on him and melt the ice in his bones. Growing up in Michigan, he should have been used to the cold, but he wasn't - it went through him like a Taco Bell grande meal; from December to May, he was a perpetual block of ice and the only way to warm up was to take long, hot showers.

Only, hot water doesn't last forever. Ten minutes, fifteen tops, and it started to run tepid, then icy. And God help you if all nine of your sisters (excluding Lily) bathed before you cuz you were getting water so cold it made the shit the Titanic sank in look like a warm bubble bath.

Ducking his head under the spray, he grabbed the shampoo from the ledge, squeezed some into his hand, and massaged it into his scalp. It was a fruity, girly brand that made him smell like a woman. For some reason, he expected Linka to use the same brand, but she didn't - her brand was more neutral, which made sense. He lived with ten sisters, so femininity ruled the roost; she lived with ten brothers, so masculinity ruled the roost. Funny how their worlds were so similar yet so different.

After lathering up and rinsing off, he cut the stream, grabbed his towel, and dried off. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he hopped out, went to the sink, and grabbed his deodorant from the medicine cabinet. Thankfully, while he was expected to use the same shampoo and body wash and shampoo as the girls, Mom and Dad didn't make him use Secret like his sisters.

Next, he brushed his teeth and gargled with mouthwash, then brushed his teeth again because why not? Linka was gonna be sticking her tongue in there later, gotta make sure it tastes and smells good.

He blinked.

Putting it like that made it not as sexy. It's interesting how you can take the same thing and make it sound two different ways depending on what words you use to describe it. For instance, he read a lot of Ace Savvy fan fiction, and in one story, he was doing this author's sexpot OC, and the way the writer wrote it...oh, my God, umf. _Ace hooked his arms under her legs and pressed himself to her moist opening..._ idk, it was better than that, like _really_ hot. Then in another, Ace was doing another sexy OC and it was like _Ace shoved his meat into her bearded clam._ Ugh, It was so gross.

Done, he dressed, brushed his hair, then went back to his room, side-stepping Lucy AKA Miss I-Like-to-Read-While-I-Walk-and-Not-Pay-Attention. A muffled _umph_ told him she bumped into something, which kind of served her right.

In his room, he grabbed a pair of socks from the dresser, sat on the bed, and pulled them on, followed by his shoes. There. He was ready. He checked his phone.

2:10.

Thank _God,_ he was going to literally go crazy if he had to wait much longer. You know what he didn't get? Why couldn't Lisa create a device to freeze time so that Linka could come over whenever? Push a button and everything just...pauses. She could certainly do it, I mean, come on, she built a teleporter that traveled between dimensions. At this point, _nothing_ was beyond her.

If she did something like that, Linka could technically spend the night. The prospect of falling asleep with her in his arms and his face buried in her warm, fragrant hair made his heart bounce. Waking up with her in his arms...rubbing his nose against hers, kissing her lips, and running his hand up and down her soft body...made _something else_ bounce.

He tried to shove those thoughts away, but they came regardless: Him slipping his hand between Linka's thighs as he placed sleepy kisses to the side of her throat; Linka spreading her legs to give him better access; her sickly heat; her dampness; her…

...now he was hard.

Damn it.

He forced visions of morning sex with Linka out of his mind and checked his phone again.

2:15.

Giddy excitement filled him. Just as soon as he was soft, he'd head to Lisa's room.

Something occurred to him, and he snapped his fingers. Damn, almost forgot. He popped up, went over to his nightstand, and opened the drawer. Inside, between a slim Ray Bradbury paperback and a deck of Yu-Gi-Oh cards, was a small gray box topped with a silvery bow. He reached in, picked it up, and held it in the palm of his hand.

In this humble box resides my heart, he thought, and to you I give it today, Linka.

That's not what he was actually going to say...he thought. He had to say _something_ deep and romantic; he couldn't just toss it at her and go _Here's my heart or something, have at it_. He'd been trying to find the prettiest and most meaningful arrangement of words to go along with his present since the day he got it, but gave up and decided just to go from the gut. After all, nothing inspires a man quite like a beautiful woman. Hell, half the poems written in the 1800s were basically some lovesick guy talking about the girl he liked. _She walks in beauty...and I wanna put my dick in her so fucking bad. Ugh._ He remembered a documentary he saw about WWII and a narrator read a bunch of letters American servicemen sent their wives and girlfriends from the front; he was shocked by how poetic these guys were, most of them being uneducated grunts from Tennessee and Camden, New Jersey and shit. That's when he came to believe that all it takes to turn a man into a poet is a woman - missing a woman, loving a woman, pining after a woman.

 _Linka, you mean everything to me, and I…_

No, he didn't like that. She was a queen and an angel and no mortal words could do her justice.

Standing there in front of his bedside table, he forced himself to remember that while they were not the same person, he and Linka were very similar in the way they thought, felt, and reacted, to the point that they were constantly finishing each other's sentences. She wouldn't care if he spoke like Keats or a long-haul trucker with three teeth; the gesture of symbolically giving her his heart would be enough to make her heart melt.

Even so, he loved her and he wanted everything to be perfect.

He closed the drawer, checked his boner (nonexistent now), then tucked the box into his pocket. He went to the door, poked his head out to make sure the coast was clear, then hurried to Lisa's room. While Linka's family would be out of the house today, his wouldn't, which was fine. Remember that thing about getting lost in the pack? Sometimes, like right now, it worked to his advantage. No one would miss him or Lisa for a few hours, and if they did, well...he took his little sister to the park, what?

In her room, Lisa sat slouched before her computer, her chin resting in her palm. For some reason, the communication lines between their world and Linka's were acting up lately - more static than normal, dropped calls, trouble establishing video conferences. She was working on it but couldn't figure out what was wrong. _Probably faulty wiring on Levi's side,_ she told him, _that boy's impossible sometimes._ She grinned fondly as she said it.

She looked over her shoulder when he closed the door behind him. "2:20," she said and got to her feet. "I was expecting you earlier."

"I wanted to be here earlier," he said, "a lot earlier."

Crossing to the teleporter, which sat in the corner and covered with a white sheet, she said, "I can't lie, I wanted you here earlier too. The appointed time, however, is 2:30 and we must keep as close to that as humanly possible to avoid any chance of discovery." She pulled the sheet off with a crisp whipping noise and tossed it aside. "You know how long it takes our family to get out the door; Levi's is worse."

Lincoln walked over and stood next to her as she connected the teleporter to her computer terminal. She was just as excited to see Levi as he was Linka - you might not be able to see it, but he could sense it, like the crackle of electricity in the air before a storm. On Halloween, he and Linka caught them holding hands while they talked, their fingers threaded together and goofy little smiles on their lips.

Which reminded him.

"So," he said as Lisa input a series of numbers on a keyboard, "you gonna kiss Levi this time?" His voice lifted teasingly as he spoke. Her cheeks turned red and he smirked. He liked picking on her about Levi; talking about him was the only time she ever displayed any emotion and it was actually really nice to see her smile.

"I doubt it," she said, ignoring the bait, "the human mouth is a cesspit of germs and bacteria, and neither one of us is particularly interested in swapping saliva." She hit a button, and a digital readout flanking the teleporter's door lit up.

"True," he said seriously, "but kissing someone like that…" he thought of all the times he and Linka did it and his chest tingled. "It's really intimate," he said, settling for that word because no other one, in his limited vocabulary anyway, existed to convey the sense of tender affection and closeness that came with French kissing.

Lisa crossed to the teleporter and unhooked it from the computer. "Be that as it may, we've mutually decided to hold off." She stopped and tilted her head back. "Though, I must admit...when he is speaking, I cannot maintain eye contact and look, instead, at his lips, and feel the overwhelming urge to press them against mine." The corners of her mouth turned up and she hung her head as if to hide it. "They look very soft."

"I bet they are," Lincoln said. He didn't want to know for himself, but he suddenly found himself wanting Lisa to. Same principle as cheering for the couple in a romantic comedy, he figured. He leaned over her shoulder. "Only one way to find out."

She turned her head to face him, her lips twitching...then she broke out in the biggest, most radiant smile he'd ever seen from her. "Shut up, Lincoln," she laughed.

"It's true," he said.

"It's also true that you're a doofus," she retorted. She checked her wristwatch. "2:28. I think we can leave now." She opened the door and motioned for Lincoln to enter ahead of her. He went over, stepped in, and turned, his heart beginning to race. Finally, after two long months, he was going to see and hold Linka again.

Lisa came in, closed the door, and typed their destination into a keypad. "I assume you have a Christmas gift for Linka," she said.

"Yep," Lincoln said, "it's a heart necklace. It has our names engraved on the inside. I'm symbolically giving her my heart." He said the last part haltingly, realizing that it sounded even cornier out loud than it did in his head.

Lisa didn't reply for a moment, then, with a sigh, "Perhaps my feelings for Levi have softened me, but that's a very beautiful gesture." She pushed a button, and the teleporter began to whirr.

This part always scared Lincoln - as Lisa said long ago, one tiny mistake and they could wind up in a volcano, on the moon, or in the middle of a meeting of the RNC *shiver*

The whirring got louder, louder, taking on a sickly, high-pitched quality that Lincoln had never heard before. The teleporter began to shake, then, with a low hum, the blinking lights all went dark and the movement ceased like flipping a switch, the smell of fried wiring and ozone filling the air.

Lincoln's heart clutched.

"Goddamn it," Lisa muttered. She went to the keyboard and tried entering a code, but nothing happened - the teleporter remained dark and dead, the only light coming through the door, beyond which was still Lisa's bedroom.

"W-What's wrong?" he asked.

"We lost power," Lisa said.

No shit. "Why?"

She pushed a red button, and the door slid open with a whoosh. "I don't know," she said and stepped out, "I'll have to check. Out."

He started to protest, but realized that a malfunctioning teleporter was the last place he wanted be, so he got out and stood to one side while Lisa opened a hatch, revealing the machine's inner workings.

It occurred to him that he might not get to see Linka today, and his stomach dropped like a hanged man through a trapdoor.

On her knees, Lisa bent to one side and examined the guts, a tiny hum rising from her lips. He didn't like the sound of it - it sounded puzzled, like she didn't know what was wrong and couldn't fix it and he wouldn't be able to spend time with Linka.

Panic gripped him, and he took a deep breath that did little to dispel the dark pressure suddenly pressing down on his chest. "What's the matter? Can you fix it?"

Shutting the panel, Lisa got to her feet. "There's nothing wrong with the machine itself," she said, "at least not that I can see. If there is, it's something fairly serious." She paused. "We _may_ have to cancel."

That last word pierced Lincoln's heart like a poison arrow. "Cancel?" he asked dumbly.

"Yes," she said heavily, which told him she wasn't any happier about it than he was, "I'll have to take a closer look, though. I-I don't know right now. Leave me alone." Stress crept into her voice and for a moment she looked lost, then went around the desk and dropped into her chair. Lincoln stood there, not knowing what to do and feeling like a man who just watched everything he loved smashed to pieces; his heart slammed in fear and his stomach twisted back and forth like a wet dishrag...he waited so long to see Linka and the thought that he wouldn't get to made him want to cry.

Across the room, Levi's face appeared on the screen, the picture grainy. "I expected you to be en route," he said with a note of confusion,

"We attempted to leave and the teleporter lost all power. I'm going to give it a thorough work-over...which may necessitate the cancelation of our visit."

Lincoln winced at that terrible word _cancelation,_ and so did Levi. Quickly recovering, the boy nodded. "Very well. Safety is vital in trans-dimensional travel, and I would rather postpone your coming here than...than risk something happening to you." His voice hitched ever so slightly.

"I'll try to be quick," Lisa said.

"Be exhaustive instead," Levi replied and flashed a wan smile.

"I will," Lisa said.

Levi nodded. "I'll check things on my end to make sure everything is functioning as it should. I will call you in...twenty minutes."

"Alright," Lisa said, "talk to you then."

She hit a button, and the screen went dark. Turning in her chair, she fixed Lincoln with a grave expression that may have been a little too dark for the relatively minor setback at hand, but when matters of the heart are involved, every tiny thing is major to the people it affects. "I need to full focus to do this, so...go wait in your room."

Lincoln opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it; any time they spent arguing was time she wouldn't be working on the machine. They could still save today - it might very well be something incredibly minor, like a loose spark plug somewhere. Nodding, he left and went back to his room, dropping onto the bed with a sigh. His stomach ached at the possibility of not getting to spend the day with Linka, and disappointment washed through him like battery acid.

It was nothing, he told himself; Lisa would have it fixed in five minutes, ten tops, and then they'd be on their way.

Maybe he was pessimistic, but deep down, he didn't think that was going to happen. Something _big_ was wrong.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had to think positive because if he didn't, he'd go crazy.

Resting his hands on his knees, he stared at the wall and fought back dark thoughts.

* * *

Linka held her fists anxiously to her chest and watched with bated breath as Levi crawled underneath the teleporter like a mechanic working on a big rig. Her stomach was in knots and she was starting to feel really flustered. Not in a hot way, but in a _I'm gonna start shaking and screaming_ way. Nervous energy surged through her veins and she felt like pacing, but didn't want to be away because she wanted to know what was wrong and what was happening the same second Levi did. "How does it look?" she asked hesitantly and leaned forward as though to see.

"Linka, I haven't even gotten panel off," he said sharply. "Please."

Normally he wouldn't use that tone with her and she wouldn't stand for it if he did, but right now neither cared; they were both worried they weren't going to see their respective partner.

With a sigh, Linka started to pace, going from the teleporter to the door and back again in an endless circuit. Okay, okay, it wasn't the end of the world, it was just a hiccup. It's not like she'd _die_ or anything if she didn't get to see Lincoln today, she'd just be disappointed. Bitterly. She'd been so excited for this day for so long that having it fall through at the last minute would leave her crushed, like waking up on Christmas morning to find no presents under the tree and reindeer poop in your stocking. She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. For one thing, they didn't know for sure that he and Lisa wouldn't be able to come, and for another, even if they couldn't, oh well, they'd just have to reschedule. Yeah, it flipping sucked, but it was no reason to throw yourself on your bed and sob into your pillow.

Which is _totally_ what she felt like doing right now.

She came to a stop in front of the machine and crossed her arms over her chest, mainly because she needed a hug. Levi's feet stuck out from under, and she focused on them instead of the tears brimming in the back of her eyes. No reason to cry, Link, jeez, will you get a grip, please? Lexx is supposed to be the drama queen around here, not you.

A muffled clang sounded, and Levi hissed a nasty word that Linka registered but frankly didn't care to challenge. A minute later, he crawled out and sat up. "Nothing," he said. He got to his feet, brushed past her, and sat at his computer. "Let me just check the uplink," he added absently, his fingers flying across the keyboard. Linka hugged herself tighter.

 _This was supposed to be our first Christmas together._

That thought drew the tears from the back of her eyes to the front, and she blinked to keep them from spilling down her cheeks. Damn her stupid girl hormones.

"No," Levi said and turned. "There's nothing wrong on our end." He slid his glasses down and pinched the bridge of his nose, something he only did when he was nervous or frustrated. Linka's heart twinged a little; she was kind of hoping it _was_ on their end, because at least that would give her the illusion of being in control. It being completely out of their hands (or Levi's, rather) was like being a ship with no rudder or something, totally at the mercy of the wind.

An idea struck her. "Can't…" she trailed off. She _was_ going to say _can't we just go there?_ But she remembered that Lincoln's sisters and parents were around.

Levi started to reply, then furrowed his brow. "Actually, that gives me an idea." He got up, went to the teleporter, and opened the door.

"What are you doing?" Linka asked.

"Stay here," he said.

W-Was he leaving her? Oh, uh-uh. If he got to see Lisa, she was gonna get to see Lincoln, even if it was just for a quick, clandestine hug. She started toward the machine, but before she reached it, Levi closed the door. Seconds later, it started to shimmer and glow, a quiet purring noise filling the air and making Linka's teeth vibrate. She jumped back with a tiny cry of alarm and brought her fists defensively to her chest. Oooh, when he got back she was gonna make him wish he was never born.

The purring steadily increased in volume until it was a high pitched wail that sent icepicks into the center of her skull. She slapped her hands over her ears and tucked her chin against her chest, her knees pressing together and her feet bracing against the floor in a rough V. It put her in mind of a vacuum cleaner after sucking up water: Straining, sick, and moments from -

With a strange zapping sound, the teleporter fell dark, and the whine stopped. She cautiously let go of her ears and stood up straight. Was it over?

If so, it didn't work: The teleporter was still there.

The door slid open and Levi came out with a frown. " _That's_ concerning," he said, and Linka's heart dropped. That was like the doctor saying your test results are _troubling_ : Very, very serious.

"What happened?" she asked.

He went to his desk, sat, and navigated the mouse across its pad. "The same thing that happened to Lisa's. It lost power and there was a distinctive grinding sensation as though it were struggling to jump but couldn't."

Okay, now she was starting to get _really_ worried. Levi's and Lisa's teleporters were linked, but after getting off the computer with her, he _un_ linked them, which meant that anything wrong with hers wouldn't affect his. Why were both of them breaking down? It was something terrible, wasn't it? Oh, God, it was.

Lisa's face filled the screen; the picture was sticky and the sound quality was strangely tinny. "I'm still working," she said, "I c-can't seem to find -"

Levi cut her off. His voice was low and severe. "I'm afraid it may be something a lot more serious." He looked at Linka and seemed to consider something for a moment. "Can you go wait in your room, please?"

All Linka could do was nod, suddenly numb and cold all over. She took a deep breath, left, and went back to her room, where she dropped onto the bed. Levi's words echoed through the chambers of her skull like the ominous tolling of a midnight bell. _Something a lot more serious._

 _More serious._

 _Serious._

What, though? Was it broken? How long would it take to fix? She imagined going months and months without seeing Lincoln, and her stomach turned. She couldn't _survive_ that long without him; she'd go crazy and never come back. The past month and a half was hell, literal hell, and the thought of repeating it two or three times over while Lisa and Levi worked to repair the damage tightened around her chest like a metal band.

She reached for her phone on the nightstand, needing to hear Lincoln's voice.

It rang in her hand.

She didn't need to check to know that it was him. She answered and held it to her ear. "Hey," she said, a trace of sadness in her voice.

"Hey," he replied. "Did Levi -?"

"Yeah," she said, "and...there's a problem here too."

The line was silent for a moment. "What?" he asked.

She explained the best she could, and when she was done, Lincoln sighed. "Damn it," he said.

"Looks like today might not happen," she said, and was not surprised to feel a tear tracking down her face. She wiped her eyes and blinked. It might not be the end of the world, but she was _really_ looking forward to seeing him.

He took a deep, watery breath. "I know. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she said, "and it's not the end of the world. We'll just have to wait a little longer, that's all."

Like every moment apart from him wasn't anguish...like waiting a little longer was a simple matter of twiddling her thumbs. It might be melodramatic, but Lincoln really _was_ like the air she breathed, and not being with him was suffocation of the worst sort. Aside from actual suffocation, she figured, but there wasn't all _that_ much of a difference when you got right down to it. One hurt the body while the other hurt the soul.

"Yeah," Lincoln said, "it sucks but…"

She waited for him to go on, and when he didn't, she arched her brow. "You there?"

Nothing.

She held the phone up: DISCONNECTED flashed mockingly across the screen. She sighed in frustration and dialed his number, whipping her hair sassily to one side and pressing the phone to her ear. When he answered, the line crackled with static. "Sor...call dropped."

Inexplicable dread slithered through the pit of her stomach like an eel. She couldn't see him, she couldn't talk to him...she didn't know why, but it felt like a bad omen. "It's fine," she said, even though she didn't think "it" was at all. "We probably shouldn't talk long. I just…"

"Wanted to hear your voice," Lincoln finished.

She smiled warmly. "Yeah," she drew, "I miss you like crazy."

"I miss you too," he said. "I got you a present."

"Oh?" she asked teasingly, "what is it?"

Truth be told, she didn't care _what_ it was. In fact, she didn't care if it was or wasn't - all she really wanted was his arms around her. That was the only present _she_ needed, everything else could take a flying leap. Candy canes? Stocking stuffers? Pfft.

Well...she did want her stocking stuffed but…

She giggled. You have a dirty mind, Linka. You're a thot with a capital 'T'.

"I can't tell you that," Lincoln said, a smile evident in his voice. _Your laughter makes me happy,_ he told her once. "It's a surprise. You'll really like it, though. I hope."

Linka hummed. "I will no matter _what_ it is. I got you something too." She blushed deeply. She tried it on a few time after bringing it home, and while she _thought_ she looked okay, she'd never tried to be sexy for him, so it was kind of, like, awkward. She practiced her bedroom eyes in the mirror, but they looked more like she _had_ something in her eyes. _Ow, sand, ow, ow._ She didn't have self-images issues (though she sometimes wished her hair wasn't snowy freaking white), but she also didn't think she did "sexy" very well. Eh, guess everyone's not cut out for it. When Lincoln looked at her, though, especially when they were having sex, his face burning with desire and his eyes shimmering with love, she felt like the most beautiful girl in the world.

"Yeah?" Lincoln asked of her present. "Can you give me a hint?"

Linka thought for a moment. "Nope. It's a surprise." She intentionally mimicked what he said to her.

"Aw, come on, I'll give you a hint if you give _me_ one."

Hmmm. Linka considered, then figured what the hey. "Clothing."

Lincoln missed a beat. "Clothing, huh?"

Lol, he probably thought she got him socks or a shirt or something. Too bad for him his girlfriend was a sneaky one. She had ten brothers each with their own birthdays and such, so she got _pretty_ good at evasion over the years. "Umhm. Clothing."

"Well, that's a coincidence, because what I got you is _like_ clothing."

Huh? Like clothing? The only thing she knew that was like clothing was...clothing. "Like clothing," she said slowly, tasting the word as though it were a dish and she a girl who couldn't decide whether she liked it or not.

Like clothing, like clothing.

Now that word didn't make sense anymore because she thought it too many times in a row.

"Yep. It has something in common with clothes."

Oh! It must be made of fabric then. "A pillow?"

"Nope."

Hm. "Fuzzy socks?"

"No. Stop guessing."

She stroked her chin and tilted her head. "A cute comforter."

"No, stop guessing."

"Shoes?"

"I'm hanging up."

"No! I'll stop! I'll stop!"

She brushed her hair out of her face and switched the phone to her other hand. That's when she noticed how _hot_ it was, like the battery was overheating and getting ready to explode. Oooh, that's not good. She thought of the teleporter. "How's your phone?" she asked.

Catching her meaning, Lincoln said, "It's getting really hot."

Her heat twinged. Darn it. "Mine too. You know how the connection's been really bad lately?"

She imagined him nodding. "Yeah, I was wondering the same thing."

It stood to reason that the problems with their connection were related to whatever was happening with the teleporters.

"Maybe we should get off," she said, even though getting of the phone was the last thing she wanted to do right now.

Lincoln sighed. "Yeah, that might be best."

Neither spoke for a second, then, at the same time, "I love you."

They laughed, then Lincoln said, "I love you, Linka."

"I love you too," she smiled.

"As soon as Lisa tells me what's going on, I'll text you. Okay?"

"Alright," she said.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

He hung up, and Linka sat the phone next to her.

It's not the end of the world, she reminded herself, but even so...it kind of felt like it was.

* * *

 _Don't bother her,_ Lincoln told himself, _she needs to concentrate and she can't do that with you popping in every five minutes like a kid asking_ are we there yet? _Just relax._

Yeah, easier said than done, internal-monologue-Linc, easier said than done.

It was closing in on 5pm and Lisa's door was still firmly and forbiddingly shut, a soft blue glow emanating from the cracks. He knew because every five minutes, he checked, hoping against hope that _this_ time, it would be open and Lisa would be like _Hey, Linc, all fixed_. She never was, though, and he was starting to think she'd be in there forever.

He didn't know what was going on in Linka's world, but he was sure that her family was back from wherever Levi sent them, so today was a bust regardless. He just needed to know that the teleporter was fixed so that he could stop obsessively worrying.

For a while, he paced the first floor, going back and forth from the kitchen to the living room with his hands on his hips, but everyone started battering him with questions. _You okay, Linc? You look anxious; hey, Linc, you nervous about something? Hey, Linc; Hey, Linc; Hey, Linc._

Next, he did the same thing upstairs, going from one end of the hall to the other, pausing here and there to listen at Lisa's door. He heard voices at one point, which told him she and Levi were video chatting; with two epic geniuses on the case, he thought he'd feel a little more optimistic, but he didn't; he felt like he was gonna puke.

Soon, his sisters started drifting up from the first floor, Luna to rock out with her guitar, Leni to mend a dress or something, and Lucy to hide in the vents and read Edgar Allen Poe. He retreated to his room before any of them could draft him for an opinion or something, shut the door, and paced between it and his desk for a while. His space was getting progressively smaller and smaller: First the living room and kitchen, then the hall, now his room. Last step was hopping on his bed and pacing _that_. Actually, the _real_ last step would be pacing his pillow.

Every so often, he poked his head into the hall to see if Lisa was done. It was getting close to dinner, so she'd _have_ to break - Mom and Dad wouldn't let her eat in her room anymore because they were afraid she'd become a shut in. As soon as he saw her, he'd snatch her by her Shaggy looking sweater and give her the thirdest third degree in Thirddegreetown.

He blinked.

Lol. I sound like Linka now.

His stomach pinched with loss at the mention of her name. He was at peace with the fact that he missed out on seeing her (as at peace as North and South Korea, at least), but if he started thinking about how badly he wanted to hug and kiss her and how much he was looking forward to holding her hand and giving her his heart, he'd go back to war with it.

Presently, he sat on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands, his stomach knotting and his heart palpitating sickly. He ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. Is this how those guys on TV feel when they're waiting for their baby to be born? You know, the ones pacing the waiting room and chain smoking? Twisted with worry, sick, restless? It wasn't fun, if so. He'd skip the whole having kids thing, thanks.

Well, actually, Lisa said that he and Linka wouldn't be able to conceive anyway, so *finger guns*

He was just starting to get up for another check-on-Lisa trip when someone knocked on the door, freezing him. _Probably just Luna. "Dinner's ready, dude-bro, rock on."_ "Yeah?" he called.

The knob turned and Lisa poked her head in, her expression wan and drawn.

He knew in an instant that something was wrong. Really wrong.

"Can you come into my lab, please," she said. Her voice was flat, washed out, and Lincoln gulped. Oh, God.

Without speaking, he got up and followed Lisa into her room, shutting the door behind him. She crossed over to her desk and sat with a burdened sigh; Levi's face filled the computer screen - he looked just as haggard (and worried) as her, and Lincoln's knees went weak.

"Come over here," Lisa said and motioned him forward. He went to her on shaky steps and stood over her shoulder.

On the computer, Levi turned away, and a moment later Linka joined him. She looked nervous too, but when she saw him, she brightened a little. "Hey," she said.

"Hey," Lincoln replied through a tender though half-hearted picture quality was grainy and dim, like an old school TV station back in the days before HD; Linka was as beautiful as she was in person, though.

He started to ask her how she was, but Lisa cut him off. "Both Levi and myself have been working on this matter for the majority of the afternoon, as you know, and we've reached a conclusion." Her voice trembled slightly, and Lincoln's guts knotted even tighter than they already were.

Levi picked up where she left off. "I trust you have heard the expression _the fabric of space and time_." He darted his eyes from Lincoln to his sister and back again.

"Yeah," Lincoln said and Linka nodded.

"Matter and energy are two expressions of a single material. We can think of space-time as a fabric; The presence of large amounts of mass or energy distorts space-time – in essence causing the fabric to "warp" – and we observe this warpage as gravity. Freely falling objects – whether soccer balls, satellites, or beams of starlight – simply follow the most direct path in this curved space-time."

Lincoln and Linka both furrowed their brows in identical expressions of puzzlement. Lincoln liked to think he was fairly intelligent, but once you got got him on the subject of math and science, he was lost .

"There is no literal fabric," Lisa clarified. "It is an expression. However, the spacetime that separates the individual dimensions of the multiverse behaves differently from the spacetime _within_ each universe."

Levi nodded grimly. "It behaves as though it _were_ a fabric. Each time that we've traveled through this "fabric" it has caused a rip, and after each passage, the "fabric" as it were...sort of knits back together." He held up his hands and laced his fingers to demonstrate.

"And it grows _stronger_ each time," Lisa put in, a bitter inflection creeping into her voice on the word stronger. She stared off to one side, her thumb hooked under her chin and her fist pressed to her lips. It was the most obvious display of petulance he'd ever seen from _any_ of his sisters, and to see if from _Lisa_ of all people made it somehow worse...somehow scary.

Sighing, Levi nodded. "Yes. A-And right now we cannot safely penetrate it. Our teleportation systems are not strong enough and even if they _were_ , there's a chance that ripping the fabric again will cause, perhaps, a…"

"A black hole," Lisa said sullenly, "a world-swallowing, universe ending black hole that, if God is merciful, would only envelope ours and Levi's world…"

"But may very well consume _everything_."

On the screen, Linka's eyes widened with a mixture of fear and understanding that sent icy knife blades into Lincoln's chest; he'd never wanted to hold her so bad as he did right now.

"We are able to communicate owing to the low impact nature of radio waves," Levi said. "Imagine water soaking through a piece of cloth and you'll understand. Having said that, even what we are doing right now is causing tiny rips."

"And pretty soon, we'll lose all contact," Lisa said.

"In essence," Levi said gravely, "once these signals stop getting through…"

Lisa pursed her lips unhappily. "We'll likely never see each other again."


	11. Saying Goodbye

Everyone who knew him said Luke Loud was a hothead...and they weren't wrong. He had a reputation for acting before he thought, which routinely landed him in detention and, once, in the back of a cop car. It wasn't a reputation that was entirely deserved, though. He was perfectly capable to thinking before doing something, sometimes he just chose not to. On a bright and blustery January day, he did just that...and it was the hardest fucking thing he'd ever done in his life.

It happened in the cafeteria at lunch. He was sitting with Sam when a girl named Karen sat across from them and starting flirting with him - Sam, not Luke. That was bad enough, but Sam flirted _back_ , and that was like a punch to the stomach...a fucking Mike Tyson wearing brass knuckles level blow that ruined his gut, his spleen, his kidneys, and possibly even his liver. She twirled her finger in her reddish blonde hair, smiled slinkily, and gave him the most forward pair of fuck-me eyes Luke had ever seen, and Sam ate it up.

Luke put up with it, though, his anger rising until hot tears filled his eyes and his hands shook. If he was really as impulsive as they said he was, he would have plowed the bitch in her face and maybe Sam too, but he didn't. He took it...even though it killed him, even though he was seeing right in front of his eyes the very thing that he hoped he never would, like a nightmare come true.

He wasn't a fag...but he liked Sam. Like...liked him the way he liked girls, only more. He was a ladies man, always had a girl when he wanted, because other guys get all nervous and shit around them, but not him. He liked them and all, but they didn't make him feel the way Sam did, didn't make him self-conscious and fluttery, Put him in a room full of the hottest girls at school and he was fine, when he was around Sam, though, he started blushing and shaking.

He wasn't a dumbass, he knew Sam wasn't into dudes, and knowing he'd never get to hold his hand and kiss him the way he wanted to ripped Luke's heart to fucking shreds. If he was smart, he'd stop hanging with him, but he wasn't - he was really into him and if he could only be his bro, then...fine.

That did _not_ mean he wanted to watch some fucking ho get what he desired most. The way Sam looked at her...hungry and tender, like he wanted to pound her to smithereens then hold her in his arms, made Luke _jealous_. Sam never looked at _him_ that way; he looked at him with relative indifference...he didn't linger on the strong curve of Luke's jaw the way he did his, never dwelled on his rock hard abs, never stared at his ass and bit his bottom lip. Nope. But he was looking at this tramp that way, and he _just_ fucking met her.

Part of him wanted to get up and storm off, but he forced himself to stay where he was; he might like Sam, but he wasn't a fucking fag _or_ a pussy. A tough guy like him didn't swish off in tiff because the dude he liked was talking to some slut, he sucked it up and dealt, so that's what he did. When the bell rang, he went to class like nothing and passed the rest of the day like he always did: Cutting up, cracking jokes, and picking on geeks. He was just going through the motions, though - he didn't wanna be doing this crap, he wanted to be with Sam, alone, running his hands over his cut, sweaty chest.

He wanted to tell him how he felt.

But he wouldn't.

Are you kidding me? If Sam got mad at Luke being into him, he might tell everyone...and then stop being friends with him. He didn't want people thinking he was a fag, but he didn't want to lose Sam even more, so he was pretty much stuck.

All that to say: He bottled all of that shit up, instead of unleashing it like the big bad hothead he supposedly was, and took it home with him. He was in a sour mood when he walked through the door, and any little thing could set him off.

That thing wound up being Linka.

She was sitting on the sofa and hugging a pillow to her chest when he got home, her legs drawn up under her and her eyes brimming with worry. Something was clearly wrong with her...and had been for close to a month. Normally, she was happy and upbeat, like a lamp shining in the dark. Since just before Christmas, however, she'd been really down, and a couple times he caught the soft sound of weeping coming from her room. On Christmas morning, when he first noticed her condition, she sat there on the couch with her head hung. Christmas was her _favorite_ holiday - she'd wear a little Santa hat and pass out presents and sing and all that other gay shit, and even though it was dorky as hell, he loved it.

This year, she didn't do it.

She just sat there.

And you know what? That really fucking bothered him.

Like any good brother, he asked her if she was okay. She said that she was. Again and again and again, only she wasn't - she wouldn't look so fucking sad if she was okay. He stopped pressing after she snapped on him and yelled at him to leave her alone - call him what you want, but he didn't like it when Linka was mad at him anymore than he liked it when his Mom was mad at him, though he made Mom mad a lot more than he did Linka. She had this maternal thing about her, but she was also his _little sister_ , and he was protective of her, okay?

He hated seeing her like this, and he wanted to know what was wrong so he could at least try to make it better. She wouldn't talk, though, and that was that.

Only it wasn't.

He didn't know if it was new or not, but since he started really paying attention to her, he noticed that she spent a _lot_ of time with Levi. She'd go into his room and not come out for hours, and more than once he caught them sitting together on the couch and talking in hushed, urgent tones. He decided a long time ago that whatever was wrong with Linka, Levi had something to do with it. He held off on confronting his brother, but today, already pissed off, seeing Linka so glum was just too fucking much.

Taking off his jacket, he hung it on the rack and went straight up the stairs, determined to find out what was wrong with her even if he had to kick Levi's little ass to do it. At the top of the steps, he bumped into Loki, bent over his phone like always. The older boy looked up, his eyes narrowed, and started to say something, but stopped when he caught sight of Luke's hard face. "What's wrong with _you?_ ' he asked and arched his brow.

"Linka," Luke said, "she's sitting on the couch looking like someone killed her whole fucking world."

Loki was the only one Luke talked to about his suspicions. He mentioned noticing Linka being sad to Lane...then the dweeb turned around and told her a bunch of stupid fucking jokes trying to _make her feel better_.

"Yeah," Loki sighed, "she does look _literally_ dejected."

"And I'm gonna find out why," Luke said and brushed past his brother. Loki hesitated, then shoved his phone into his pocket and followed.

At Levi's door, Luke banged like a cop with a warrant, already so worked up he'd tear the little freak's head off if he so much as said boo. "What?" the genius called sharply.

"I gotta talk to you," Luke said.

Levi didn't immediately reply. "Come in," he said with a huff.

Luke opened the door and went in. Levi was sitting at his computer with his back to him and his fingers flying across the keyboard. Since they were brothers, Luke gave him a full two seconds to turn before snapping. "Hey. Turn your ass around."

Levi tensed, then spun the chair around, his eyes slitted behind his big, dumb glasses. "What?" he asked with a hint of annoyance.

"What's the deal with Linka?" Loki asked before Luke could speak.

The little boy regarded them with a blank expression that Luke couldn't help but feel was fake, then shrugged one shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"She's been acting really depressed lately," Luke said, "and she's always with _you_. What did you do to her?"

A contemptuous sneer touched Levi's face. "I didn't do anything," he said, "Linka has been assisting me with a project of late and, I imagine, is simply tired from working as fastidiously as she does."

Luke knew he wasn't the sharpest knife in the...uh...place where they keep the knives, but he knew bullshit when he smelled it, and Levi's breath fucking _reeked_ of it. He knew what was wrong with Linka and he was trying to cover it up because it was probably _his_ fault.

Flashing, Luke stalked over and snatched Levi up by the lapels of his jacket, then dragged him out of the chair and lifted him up. Loki started, and Levi's face fell in horror. "What'd you do to her, you little creep?" Luke snarled. He shook Levi back and forth, delighting in the way his brother's head whipped; it felt good to get some of the anger out, and if he wasn't careful, he'd unleash it all.

"Nothing!" Levi cried. "I didn't do anything to her! I swear!"

Uh-uh. Wrong answer. Luke cocked his right fist, and Levi's eyes widened. "Y-You wouldn't strike a man in spectacles, would you?"

Grinning savagely, Luke plucked Levi's glasses from his face and tossed them away.

"I-I'm only four," Levi said, desperate.

"Then I'll hit real slow," Luke said. He pulled back his fist, and Levi screamed.

"Alright! Alright! I'll tell you!"

Now _that's_ what he wanted to hear. He let go of Levi's coat, and he dropped to his chair, his chest heaving and his face the color of milk. Luke loomed over him, and Loki joined them, his arms crossing over his scrawny chest. "What's wrong with her?" the latter demanded.

Levi swallowed and looked up at them, his eyes darting nervously from one to the other. "Early last year," he started windedly, "I-I set out to disprove the multiverse theory and proved it instead."

"Multiverse?" Luke asked, his lips puckering. He knew what multi meant and he knew what verse meant (like, universe, right?) but he had not fuking clue what _multiverse_ was. "What's that?"

"Alternate dimensions," Levi said.

Luke nodded. Okay, he knew what _those_ were, kind of.

Wait a minute. "Those are _real?"_

"Yes," Levi said. "There is a seemingly infinite number of universes coexisting side-by-side. Some are quite different from our own, and others are very similar." He looked down at his lap. "There is one, for example, where everything is identical to ours save for genders. They've been reversed."

Luke furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"In that universe, everyone who is male here is a female there and vice versa." He told them how he found Lisa and gave them a slightly modified version of how Linka and Lincoln became involved - she accompanied him on a test visit to Lisa's world, he said, and fell in love with Lincoln. He did not tell them that he and Lisa hooked them up for the express purpose of recreational intercourse.

At some point, Lexx drifted in and stood between the two older boys, his brow pinching as he listened to Levi's story.

Next, he told them about the recent complications. "That's why Linka is upset," he finished.

The three regarded him indecisively for a moment, then Luke's face darkened. "You're full of shit," he spat.

"I'm telling you the truth," he said. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out his phone, and went to his pictures. "If you don't believe me," he said and held it out, "look at this."

Luke fixed him with a wary look, then snatched the phone away. He held it up, Lexx and Loki both crowding around, and what he saw took him aback. Thirteen people clustered in front of a house very much like his own, each one a near mirror image of him and his family...except they were all girls, save for the white haired boy.

Who looked almost exactly like Linka.

Suddenly he felt _very_ dizzy.

"Whaaaaat?" Loki drew disbelievingly. He took the phone away and stared intently at the photo, a bemused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Nooooo." He laughed. He squinted and brought the phone closer. "Girl me looks like kind of a bitch."

"Just like boy you," Lexx said. He grabbed the phone and stared at the screen in open mouth wonder. "Wow, girl me is _gorgeous._ Umf."

Luke snatched the phone away before Lexx could pop his first boner and looked at the screen again as if to confirm to himself that he saw what he thought he did.

The picture remained unchanged.

He'd never been to The Twilight Zone, but he sure fucking felt like he was there now. "As you can see," Levi said, "I was being forthright. That is the Loud family of 1216 Franklin Avenue, Royal Woods, Michigan, 48067."

Luke rubbed his temples, an uncanny tingle racing up and down his spine.

"Okay, so...she fell in love with her...her boy version?" Loki faltered.

"Yes," Levi said pointedly. "And I with my female self." He blushed and looked down at his lap as if in shame.

The older boy opened his mouth to speak but wound up closing it again, rendered completely speechless for the first time in his life.

"It's not as odd as it might seem on its face," Levi said. "After all, we humans are often attracted to people who share values and beliefs similar to our own. This…"

Loki cut him off. "This is really fucking strange. And kind of gross."

"No it isn't," Levi said bitingly. "When I'm with Lisa, I feel the most overwhelming sense of completion I have ever known. It goes far beyond our shared intellectual inclinations. She makes me feel...whole...as though I was only half a person before, and..." he trailed off when tears threatened to fill his eyes. "I don't expect you to understand or to care, but what I feel for Lisa, and what Linka feels for Lincoln, transcends _love_. It's something I can't articulate, it's something that can only be felt. In Roman mythology, human beings initially had two heads, four arms, and four legs. Zeus cut them in half because he feared their power, and from there on, they, we, were damned to spend eternity searching for their other half. Legend, of course, or so I thought...until I found _my_ other half."

Luke and Loki exchanged a glance while Lexx looked as though he were making an honest effort to process what his little brother was saying. Luke stared down at the phone, picking his female version from the crowd and studying her with a critical appraisal of which he was capable but rarely employed. Looking into her face, startlingly like his own, he felt _something_ , a soft stirring in the pit of his stomach that was not as strong as what he felt for Sam, but stronger than what he felt for most woman. Her eyes, slyly half-lidded, and her knowing smirk were both...beautiful? Appealing?

He tried to actually imagine himself kissing her...and realized that he could; he could see himself kissing girl Luke _and enjoying it._ Loki took the phone away and stared at _his_ female form. The thought of falling in love with a girl (or, in Linka's case, boy) who looked just like you struck him as not just _kind of gross,_ but deeply disturbing. He was an attractive guy, but not such a narcissist that he wanted to French himself or anything. Even so, as he considered the blonde girl before him, he felt his heartbeat quicken...just a little.

"Alright, fine, she's in love with boy Linka," Luke said, "c-can't you fix your teleporter thing?"

Levi sighed. "It's not the teleporter, it's t-the fabric of spacetime itself. I can boost the teleporter's horsepower no problem and get through like _that_ , but the spacetime between here and there is unstable. One more rip and we could all be dead. As much as I love Lisa, I can't risk that."

Luke nodded. Yeah, he could see where _that_ might be an issue. "What do we do for Linka then?" he asked. "I really don't like seeing her this way."

"What _can_ you do?" Levi asked. "Lisa and I have been working out how to circumvent the issue. We considered teleporting indirectly by way of a third world, but that won't work. The veil is damaged on both ends, and any travel in or out could spell certain doom." He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. "As far as we can tell...there _is_ no way."

* * *

Across the universe, a similar string of events lead Lori Loud to call her sisters together in her bedroom for an emergency meeting. Lori, seventeen, loved her siblings, including her brother, but over the previous six months, she'd taken to completely ignoring them. It was not a choice so much as it was a necessity: She was graduating high school in the spring, and though she put on a stoic front for her family, she was scared shitless. She was standing at the precipice of adulthood, her toes danging over a dark and mysterious never-ending chasm, and each passing day was earth crumbling under her feet. When she walked across the stage and accepted her diploma, it would cave and spill her into uncertainty.

The first step, obviously, was finding a good college. She set out on her search last summer, then, in the beginning of the school year, she dedicated herself to improving her grades to help her chances of acceptance. She read, took practice tests, and studied, studied, studied until her brain ached and her stomach hurt.

Always hitting the books left her with precious little time to spend with her siblings, and even less time to involve herself in their affairs. For six months, they became little more than shadows in her periphery. This did not bother her; she was months away from literally becoming an adult, and she needed to prepare. She was close with her family, but come on, you can't be stuck up someone's butt 24/7.

Around Christmas, however, she noticed something.

Lincoln.

He was...sad.

Puberty is a strange and confusing time filled with raging hormones and swinging emotions, she knew that _all_ too well. At first she assumed what he was going through was natural and that in a week or so he'd be back to his old self.

That didn't happen.

On Christmas, his favorite holiday, he just sat in the armchair and watched everyone opening their presents and laughing with the most hangdog expression Lori had ever seen. He seldom laughed anymore and all the life and vibrancy that once characterized his personality seemed to have drained away, leaving him cold, empty, and dead.

When she got home from school that January day, she found him sitting in the armchair with his arms crossed and a blank look on his face. He glanced absently at her as she passed, and his eyes were pink and puffy, as though he'd been crying. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she went to him. He told her, as he had countless times over the past month, that he was _fine._ He obviously wasn't, but Lori left him alone because the last thing he needed was her breathing down his neck.

She was at a loss, though.

Kind of.

Recently, he'd been spending a lot of time with Lisa - hanging out in her lab behind closed doors, sitting next to her at dinner, following her around, urgently whispering to her as they sat on the couch. Whatever had him down, Lisa knew what it was, and as she climbed the stairs, she decided that she was going to find out.

Ten minutes later, all of her sisters, including Lisa, were clustered together in her room, some sitting on her bed, others on Leni's - Leni herself sat at her vanity facing the congregation, Lola perched on a stool in front of her and glowing. Leni was doing her hair when Lori called the meeting, and presently it was messy and half done up in curlers, reminding Lori of a fat, frumpy trailer park dwelling grandmother.

Lisa stood against the door, her arms crossed and an expression uncannily similar to Lola's on her face. She was working on her computer when Lori stuck her head into the room. _I'm busy, Lori,_ the little girl spat, _please leave me alone. This is very important._

Since noticing that Lisa and Lincoln were spending an unusual amount of time together, Lori had been paying close attention to the genius, as well, and discovered that she, too, was acting strangely. She wouldn't say _sad_...it was more anxious than anything, as though something weighed heavily and perpetually on her mind. It was evident this very moment: Her face was drawn and wan, her haunted and sleep deprived eyes brimmed with dark disquiet, and her foot tapped a restless tempo against the floor. She put Lori in mind of a fish out of water for some reason, yearning to be somewhere else.

Lori stood in the middle of the room and regarded her little sister with a concerned frown, then sighed and looked at everyone else. "I don't know if anyone else has noticed, but something's wrong with Lincoln."

Everyone looked at each other, their faces fifty different shades of worry. "Yeah, he does seem kind of down," Luna said. She grinned playfully. "Does he like butter tarts?"

"This isn't a joke, Luna," Lori snapped. "He looks really sad."

"He doesn't wanna play in the snow anymore," Lana said with a somber inflection.

"And he doesn't laugh at my jokes," Luan said.

Yeah, Lori thought but didn't say, _that's_ why.

She looked at Lisa, who gazed off to one side, her foot slapping the floor. Lori took a deep breath and steeled herself for a confrontation. Lisa felt her eyes on her and met them. "What's wrong with him?" Lori asked pointedly.

Maybe she was imagining things, but it looked like Lisa flinched ever so slightly. "How should I know?" There was a defensive edge in her voice - Lori was _not_ imagining that.

"I don't know," Lori said, "but you do."

"I tell you, I don't.'

Everyone looked from her to Lisa like an audience watching a tennis match.

Lori crossed her arms and cocked her hip, looking so much like her mother it was creepy - she wasn't conscious of doing it, it just came natural when she was disciplining one of her siblings. "I say you do," she said firmly, "and I wanna know what's wrong with my little brother."

Lisa opened her mouth to speak, but the fight ran out of her and she slouched heavily against the door. "Nothing," she said. Her voice was flat and unconvincing.

Well...she didn't want to do this, but Lisa left her no choice. "Mom and Dad specifically forbid you from having a nuclear reactor in your room...yet you have not one but _two_. It would be a shame if someone…"mentioned" it to them."

The color drained from Lisa's face and her brows shot up in alarm. "You wouldn't," she breathed.

Lori took her phone out, brought up her contacts, and held it out so that Lisa could see the screen. MOM in big white letters. Lisa hung her head and drew a deep breath. "Alright, fine, if you must know, I'll tell you."

Exiting out of her phone, Lori shoved it into her pocket and crossed her arms. "Go ahead."

Lisa hesitated a moment, then raked her fingers through her tangled brown hair. "Approximately eight months ago, I set out to prove the existence of multiple universes in addition to our own. I trust you're familiar, at least vaguely, with the concept."

She was...though she couldn't say exactly how. The idea of alternate realities is one of those cultural things that one seems to absorb by osmosis, like A Christmas Carol. Lori had never read the book or even seen the movie, but every cartoon in the world did a parody of it at one point or another, so she knew it just as well as if she had read it. What that had to to with Lincoln, she didn't know...but the more she meditated on her sister's words, the more her stomach turned. "Yes," she said.

"Though it is an unconventional belief, I was intrigued and, after much study, I became sure of its existence….and I was right."

She told them about happening across Levi like a ship in the night, and about introducing Lincoln to Linka - she omitted the sexual aspect of their relationship and insinuated that they fell in love when she and Lincoln visited Levi's timeline. Her sisters all leaned forward, their faces wide in wonder. She ended with the recent...complications. "That is why Lincoln and I have both been upset as of late."

For a long time after she finished, Lori processed her story, her brow knitting in consternation. "That sounds like bull," she finally said.

Lisa sighed, reached into her pocket, and pulled out her phone. "It _is_ a difficult thing to accept," she said. "I realize that. I would most likely be in your place if I hadn't seen it myself, but the fact of the matter is that the multiverse does, indeed, exist." She held the phone out, and for some inexplicable reason, Lori felt a rush of dread, as though it were a slimy creature with fangs instead of an ordinary Apple 12. She took the phone regardless and looked at the screen, her sisters clustering around her.

"Oh, dude, look at _that,_ " Luna breathed.

Ten people sat on a couch, all boys save for the white haired girl in the center, her knees pressed together and her hands resting on her lap, a big, glowing smile on her face. The boys on either side of her were nearly identical to Lori and her sisters.

Lori's jaw fell slack and the strangest sense of the uncanny swept through her like a cold, numbing wind. "Ooooh," Lola said, "my male version is _hot_." Lori's eyes went to the little boy who looked just like Lola, then to the boy who looked just like her; even his self-assured smile was like hers.

To say she was stunned would be an understatement. The word _dumbfounded_ would be more apt, but even that didn't fully convey the caustic mixture of shock, stupefaction, and superstitious dread swirling in her chest.

"Of course, being opposite sexes, we are not exactly the same," Lisa explained. "You cannot throw a wig onto a male and expect him to behave as a female and vice versa. It might be politically incorrect to say this, but there _are_ social and biological differences between the genders. This is a scientific and sociological fact. However, as you can see, we are as like them as one can possibly be. We think along the same lines to the point that Levi and myself often finish each other's sentences and, indeed, thought processes. He is more conservative and traditional in his approach. He set out, at the same time as I did, to disprove the multiverse. I suspect that this has to do with his gender. Being a woman in a male dominated field, I am already unconventional and more prone to thinking outside the box as it were. Lori's counterpart occupies the same position as she does in terms of authority, but lacking the maternal instincts of a female, his is a less nurturing, more hands off approach. He's also something of a bully, along with Luna's."

Her sisters divided their attention between her and the phone, drawn to both but unable to cogitate both at once.

Lisa opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, resembling a fish gasping for breath. "I am fully aware of how offtrail it seems to fall in love with your exact copy. I've given great thought to the matter and I still can't explain how he makes me feel." She sad, a dreamy smile spread across her lips and she looked away as if to hide the tears shimmering in her eyes. "Good," she said. "He makes me feel good and whole. Everyone, I imagine, has something missing in them, even if they don't realize it. For some it's love, for others it's money or respect, and for others still, it's peace of mind. We worry, we fret...I do, at any rate. When I'm with Levi, I feel totally at ease and…" she trailed off and took a deep breath. "I don't know. I can't articulate it. I just love him. And Lincoln feels the same way about Linka."

For a long time, no one spoke, the gravity of the situation heavy in the air. Lori studied her male version and wondered if she could ever...kiss him...and after a contemplative moment, she found that she could.

It was strange.

It boggled her mind.

It even disturbed her on some level.

But looking into Lisa's eyes, she saw that the feelings the little girl had for Levi were as intense and genuine as such things can be. She thought of Lincoln sitting on the couch, head hung and looking for all the world like a man who lost everything dear to him, and her heart twanged in sympathy. "What can we do?" she asked, vowing to herself to do whatever it took to help her brother and sister see the ones they loved again.

"Nothing," Lisa said and folded her arms anxiously. "I've been working on it nonstop for nearly a month and I don't…" her voice broke and she brushed her glasses up, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. "I can't get through," she said in whisper, then broke down crying, her shoulders shaking and her body trembling.

As one, her sisters went to her. Lori knelt and laid a hand on her shoulder, and the pitiful way she shook under her touch sent ripples of pain through Lori's soul. She opened her mouth to impart a nugget of older-sister wisdom, but she realized that she didn't know what to say - the circumstances of Lisa and Lincoln's predicament were so far beyond her limited experience that she was struck dumb, and all she could do was take Lisa in her arms and hold her tight. The others crowded around and offered their own displays of affection: Luna stroking her hair with a frown; Luan rubbing a circle between her shoulder blades; Lucy patting her shoulder as if to say _there, there._ Lisa's tears tapered of and she fell still, her grief spent...but only momentarily, Lori imagined.

"I can get through," Lisa said dully. "But at what cost? The utter destruction of everything? Of the boy I love?"

"Too high a cost," Lori said instantly. "But you're Lisa, you can, like, do anything you set your mind to."

"I know," she said simply, "but I don't think I can do this."

Lori didn't know what to say to that. Her mind flashed back to Lincoln on the couch; he was in just as much pain as Lisa. "Leni...go get Lincoln, please."

Leni nodded and rushed off. A few minutes later, she returned with Lincoln in tow, his melancholy tempered with curiosity. Lori motioned for him to enter, and he did, pushing the door softly shut behind him. He darted his eyes from sister to sister, noted their grave expressions, and paled a little. "W-What's wrong?"

Lisa pulled away from Lori and adjusted her glasses. "I told them about Linka and Levi," she said.

Lincoln blinked in surprise, then looked jerkily around the room as though he expected his sisters to be angry with him, or at the very least disapproving of his relationship. Instead, they surrounded him and, as one, hugged him fiercely. All of the worry and fear that had been building up in him over the past month crested, and tears flooded his eyes. He blinked them back and held on to his calm as hard as he could, not wanting to cry in front of them, like a child.

"How are you holding up?" Lori asked softly.

He didn't trust himself to speak, so he shrugged one shoulder instead. In truth, he wasn't holding up very well at all. Every day the chances of ever seeing Linka again became even more remote, drifting into the darkness like an astronaut lost in space, and every day, the signal grew just a little weaker, a little more unreliable. He told himself again and again to buck up, that it wasn't the end of the world, but panic clawed at his chest regardless, and sometimes his stomach ached with pangs of terror that made him wince. It was possible...nay, at this point _likely..._ that he was going to lose the thing that meant the most to him in the world, the light of his life, the air in his lungs, the heart in his body. How was he holding up? He cried himself to sleep at night, and during the day, he could barely summon the energy to shift positions. It wasn't the end of the world...but it might as well have been the end of _his_.

The longer he was apart from Linka, the sharper his feelings became, the more he came to understand that drama queen or not, he _needed_ her. Lisa surmised that, in a way, the people in their universe were, somehow, the _other half_ of the people in Linka's...not metaphorically but literally. _Derived from the same matter,_ she said, _cut of the same cloth; separated akin to the division of a cell._ He didn't know the how and why of it, but he thought she was right. He didn't feel empty and incomplete before meeting Linka, but now, apart from her, he felt it so acutely that he might as well have been missing a limb.

At night, when he gave up the struggle to sleep, he took out his phone and looked at pictures of them, her bright eyes, warm smile, and soft freckled face both heartening and _dis_ heartening. He longed to touch her with such intensity that his fingertips tinged, and sometimes, he imagined himself just laying with her, their arms around one another and their noses touching - breathing her air, soothed by her smell, gazing into her sparkling eyes and brushing his fingers through her hair.

When cold reality penetrated the mist of his fantasy and he was forced once more to confront the stark possibility that he would never touch or kiss her again, or even hear her voice... _that's_ when he started to cry.

Maybe he was melodramatic….but it hurt so fucking bad, a black, constant throbbing in the center of his chest like an open, seeping wound.

Lori brushed her hand across his face and regarded him with tight-lipped sympanty, and he flicked his eyes to his feet - if he looked at it too long, he would cry whether he wanted to or not. "I-I'm okay," he said.

That was a lie...he was not okay, and if the border between his world and Linka's closed...he never would be again.

* * *

Linka hugged the pillow to her chest and stared at the TV, her vision blurring with hot, stinging tears that were becoming harder and harder to hold back. She had not gotten a full night's sleep in nearly a month, and everything she saw somehow reminded her of Lincoln, the boy she loved but couldn't touch, could barely speak to anymore. _It's only a matter of time,_ Levi said grimly the other day, _until the signals can't get through anymore._ He didn't know when, just _sooner rather than later._

Once that happened, she would be entirely cut off from Lincoln.

Probably forever.

She drew a deep, watery breath and looked away from the screen, her lips starting to quiver. They say you don't know what you have until it's gone, and since finding out that she might lose Lincoln, she came to realize just how much he meant to her. When she was with him, she felt like a bird flying high in the heavens, free of worries, free of uncertainties, and just plain _free._ He made her feel the way sitting in her father's lap once made her feel - safe, warm, loved, and protected, as though nothing in the world could hurt her. She felt...completed. She thought about them and what he awoke in her a lot since they first met, and that was the word she kept coming back to. Completed. Levi and Lisa both thought that everyone in this world was, like, the literal other half of everyone in _that_ world; he likened it to the way _monozygotic_ (identical) twins start as one zygote then split into two separate embryos. She didn't know science very well, but it made sense, because she _felt_ like Lincoln was part of her, and she a part of him; two white-haired puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together, but would never fit with another.

It wasn't such a big deal, she told herself, but it really was, and she didn't know if she could handle losing him.

Blinking against the tears, she got a grip of her emotions and stared at the TV again, thoughts of Lincoln battering her from every side. She talked to hm on the phone earlier, and his voice barely broke through the static - she could hear it, but she couldn't enjoy and revel in it the way she used to.

He was falling away from her and there was nothing she could do about it. She was at the mercy of a cruel universe who gave her the most perfect and precious thing, then snatched it away from her with a hateful laugh. At night it plagued her dreams; in them, she and Lincoln were lost in the a world of shadows, their hands clutching...then some unseen force pulled her back, breaking her hold on him. When she woke, she was always crying, and from there on, her stomach reeled with nauseous dread - it was going to happen, just like in her nightmares, and though she knew it was coming, she could not prevent it, could only sit there and watch.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize she was no longer alone until a hand fell on her shoulder. She turned, and Luke flashed a tight, pallid smile that looked as though it belonged to a funeral director consoling a bereaved widow. Her other brothers gathered around, shoving up next to her on the couch like sardines in a tin. Their expressions ranged from somber to concerned to seemingly indifferent (Lars, of course). Uhh...what happened? Oh my God, did someone die?

Her heart skipped a beat and she looked from one to the next, finally landing on Levi, who darted his eyes guiltily to his lap. "I told them."

Confusion came over her and she tilted her head. Told them? Told them wha -?

Then it clicked and she cringed. She looked at her brothers, half expecting them to be upset or repulsed, but she saw only sympathy. "You alright?" Luke asked.

Maybe she was extra emotional, but seeing how much they cared for her and how sad they looked that _she_ was sad, Linka teared up. Well...even more. "No," she admitted; she wanted to say _yes_ but the truth slipped out anyway. Ho hum. She hugged the pillow and looked away from them, pretending, as she often did, that it was Lincoln. "I'm sad."

The dam burst and she could do little more than let herself be swept away in a torrent of misery. She buried her face in the pillow and allowed the tears to come from deep in her soul. Luke frowned and rubbed a gentle circle in her back, hating seeing her so broken up and hating himself because there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

"We'll keep trying," Levi said, his voice flat and lacking conviction. "Where there's a will, there's a way."

She didn't believe that. She believed that she would never see Lincoln again, and that no matter how long or fully she lived, she would never love someone the way she loved him.

No. That wasn't right.

She would never be able to love anyone else _period._

* * *

 _This might be your last chance._

Those words rang through Lincoln's head like a death knell as he sat on the edge of his bed, purple twilight filling the room ike the soft, cold ember glow of a dead fire. A crack of light shone under the door, and muffled noises drifted to his ears: Luna's guitar, Lola and Lana arguing, Luan cackling like an evil villain standing over a seemingly defeated hero. Normal sounds, average...but grotesque too. They were going about their lives like it was just another day, meanwhile, his world was in chaos, not over, maybe, but certainly in upheaval.

 _The signal is weaker now,_ Lisa said earlier, _I don't think it'll get through much longer._ She sat at her computer, staring strickenly at the screen, her shoulders hunched defensively, as if to ward off the inevitable. _This might be it, Lincoln,_ she said and pursed her quivering lips. He simply nodded and walked away, cold and numb like a man in shock. She said she would try, and he knew she would...for as long as she lived...but deep down, he knew it was hopeless, _knew_ with the dread certainty of a cancer patient watching their life waste away before their very eyes. They weren't meant to meet, him and Linka...Lisa and Levi. The fabric between their worlds was a line, a line that was never supposed to be crossed. Who decided that was beyond him - God? Allah? The universe itself? - but the more he thought about it, the more fatalistic he became, the more he believed it to be true. Lisa and Levi transgressed against nature, and someone, or something, was restoring order.

He was reminded of the Titanic, that ship they based the long ass Leonardo DiCaprio movie on. Yeah, it was real, the biggest, longest, most beautiful ship in the world at the time. Everyone made such a big deal over this fucking boat...and on its maiden voyage, it slammed into an iceberg and sank. That was 1912, and mankind was getting a little big for its britches. In thirty years, so many technological advances came along that the world changed. For thousands of years, you had your candlelight and liked it. Suddenly you had electricity, planes, cars, the telephone, movies, and even radio. Then the Titanic, an 882 foot long monument to man's hubris, a decadent palace of excess whose opulence was rivaled only by the dining halls in Heaven. Humankind thought it was was hot shit, that it finally conquered the world, and that God and nature were its bitch.

Just like now, someone came along and put them back in their place. Then two years later, WWI broke out, and men got to see up close and personal what all those nifty little gadgets could _really_ do.

He looked down at the phone clutched in his right hand, gripped so tight his knuckles were a deep shade of bloodless. His stomach knotted and he took a deep breath.

 _This might be your last chance._

In the movie _Titanic,_ the captain stood gallantly (or foolishly) in the bridge as the ship sank, a figure of futility and grim resignation being slowly swallowed by the icy ocean. Lincoln imagined that what he felt now was very much like what that long ago seafarer felt as the bow dipped and the band began to play.

Licking his dry lips, he swiped his thumb across the screen, went to hit contacts, and called up Linka's number. A picture of her smiling face greeted him, and he smiled even as the tears began to fall.

He pushed the CALL button and held the phone up to his ear, fighting to get a handle on his emotions; he didn't want his voice to break or hitch..for her sake.

She answered on the third ring. "Hi," she croaked wetly; even through the heavy static, he could hear the pain in her tone, and it hurt him more than anything else.

"Hey," he said and forced a smile he didn't feel, doing his damnedest to sound like this _wasn't_ a final goodbye. "H-How's it going?"

"Awful," she said. Her voice was faint and tinny, the hiss of interstellar white noise covering it like seawater covering the deck of a foundering ocean liner. "Levi says this...this might be it."

Lincoln sighed. "Yeah," he admitted, the words coming hard, "i-it might."

"I don't want it to be," she said and started to cry. "I don't."

"Neither do I," Lincoln said, holding back his own tears but just barely. "But Lisa and Levi will think of something." He didn't believe that, but in that moment, he desperately wanted Linka to.

She sniffed deeply. "No they won't. This is the last time I'll ever get to talk to you." Her voice broke on _talk._

In Lisa's room, she sat before her computer and gazed off to one side, her elbow propped on the arm of her chair and her hand fisted to her mouth. "When I first met you, Lisa" Levi said, his voice crackling. "I didn't particularly like you."

"Nor I you," she said and darted her eyes to the screen; the connection was steadily degrading, the picture wavering from side to side and pixelating. She looked away and took a deep breath. At any moment, he would go dark and she would likely never speak with him again...or see his gentle features...or stare into his dark eyes and feel that peculiar "warm and fuzzy" sensation in her breast that she had come to relish.

With Levi, her emotions had always been tumultuous - hot or cold with no middle ground. In the beginning, she disliked him. Then, somewhere along the way, a certain chemical reaction occurred in her brain, and she fell deeply and hopelessly in love with him. She understood the physical and mental processes that resulted in those strange and irrational things called feelings, and when it became apparent that hers and Levi's relationship was going to die, she believed that overcoming her emotions was as simple as mind over matter.

It was not.

Whatever love is, it is far more powerful than she ever imagined. She once thought of it as a state of mind, but today, she thought of it more as a disease, one that was beautiful until it was not, and neigh on incurable. She was in love with Levi Loud and that was all there was to it.

Voice garbled, Levi continued. "You have a certain way about you, a pomposity that I once found insufferable."

Lisa uttered a genuine laugh.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips and he scratched the back of his head. "Then we had our first video conference, and as you spoke, I kept thinking the same four words over and over again even though I really didn't wish to."

Lisa forced herself to look at the screen, smiling lopsidedly despite herself. "And what were those?"

Glancing down as if embarrassed, Levi said, "'She has beautiful eyes.'" He looked up and their gazes met, a hot blush spreading across Lisa's face and her smile getting inexorably bigger even though she wasn't happy. "By the end of that call, I was experiencing things I'd never felt before. I couldn't stop thinking about you - you consumed my every waking thought and even my dreams. It was torture." He laughed and she laughed too.

"I remember," she said, thinking of her own constitution during the aforementioned time period. She suffered the same affliction, the same gnawing _need_ in her chest. Need to see him, to hear his voice, to be with him anyway she could, and for him to be with _her_. "It _was_ torment."

Levi nodded soberly. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Nor would I."

"These past several months have -" the screen flickered and Levi's voice slurred. Lisa's heart clutched and she sat up straight, her hands coming to rest on the edge of the desk. The picture resolved, though faint, dimmer, horizontal lines of static dancing across. "...life." He sighed and looked at her, his eyes doleful and bleak. "I don't understand the nature of our emotions, and, frankly, I don't care." He hesitated for a moment, then placed his hand on the screen. "I love you, Lisa."

Clamping her lower lip hard between her teeth to keep from breaking down, she pressed her hand over his, imagining she could feel his touch across a vast chasm of spacetime. There was so much they didn't get the chance to do, so much they would _never_ get to do now. She bitterly remembered every time they'd been in the same room, every long, stimulating conversation and every wasted second. They held hands only twice, and hugged but three times. Regret washed through her, and she wished keenly that they'd made better use of their time together, that he held her in his arms and that she kissed him full on the mouth, the way Lincoln kissed Linka, germs be damned.

The screen pixelated again and blinked; some of the picture came back, but not all of it. Dark patches here and there reminded her of a puzzle incomplete.

Just like her.

"I will do everything in my power," Levi vowed, "to find you again."

Lisa didn't trust herself to speak, so she simply nodded. She would do the same. In fact, until she found a way through, she would do nothing else. None of her other studies or projects mattered, only being with him.

The screen dimmed and static filled the line, denser, louder than before; she could barely hear his voice. "I won't stop," he said, "until we're together again."

Knowing it was the end, Lisa hung her head and let the tears come. "I love you, Levi," she trembled, "please come back to me." She broke down and wept bitterly, her eyes squeezing shut and her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. "Please don't leave me," she begged. "I need you."

Slowly and ponderously, the storm passed, leaving her cold and alone.

When she looked up, the screen was dark.

* * *

Lincoln lay on his side, the phone pressed to his ear and his tearful eyes staring sightlessly into the dark. "Do you remember the first time you came over?" he asked, his voice hollow and monotonous.

"Yeah," Linka said.

"And when I came in the room?"

She didn't reply for a moment. Her voice was distant, made small and faint by a million miles of hissing shadows. "I almost peed myself," she said, and giggled sadly.

"I keep thinking about it," he said and blinked. The phone was starting to overheat and burn his hand, but he didn't care. He was going to stay on with her until the last possible minute, even if it meant letting the damn thing blow up on him. "It's one of those things that…" he trailed off. He didn't wanna sound cheesy, but, you know what? He didn't care anymore. "In that moment my life changed," he said. "I didn't know it at the time, but it did."

Linka was silent. "Mine too," she said. "I don't want to lose you."

"I don't want to lose you either," he said. He drew a deep, shivering sigh and shifted his weight. His neck and back were both stiff, but those were inconsequential right now. "You mean everything to me, Linka. You're...you're my light and I love you."

"I love you too," she said and started to cry again.

Lincoln's heart broke and he gripped the phone tighter, his breathing coming faster as his own grief threatened to overwhelm him. "Please don't," he begged.

"I can't help it," she hitched.

No, he figured, she couldn't. He could barely stop himself from joining her. Every kiss, every touch, and every smile flashed across his mind like a dying man's life before his eyes, and sharp loss dug steely claws deep into his chest. He remembered Halloween, and holding her in his arms, wrapped in the warm, drowsy afterglow of their lovemaking, and he sighed. If he knew that was the last time he would ever hold her, he would have squeezed just a little more tightly and clung for a little longer.

Static crashed across the line. "Are you there?" he asked.

"...still here," she said, even more distant now, her voice echoing as if down a long, yawning chasm.

He turned to face the wall. "I got you a Christmas present," he said. It sat in his drawer where it had for the past month. He anticipated giving it to her at some point, but now he realized he would never get the chance.

"Yeah. Fuzzy socks, right?" she asked flatly. It was supposed to be a joke, but it sounded more like a dirge.

He smiled fondly. "It's a -"

 _Hiss, crack, pop._

"Linka?"

"...barely." Her voice was even fainter now, draining steadily away. His stomach twinged and his tears over spilled his eyes. He was reminded of that dumb captain again, standing there with his hands behind his back as the end came upon him.

This, now, was Lincoln's end. Maybe not as total as the cap'n's, but no less painful.

 _This might be your last chance_ , Lisa said from the center of his head.

Allowing his emotions to lead him, he started to speak, not knowing what he was going to say until he heard it out loud. "Linka, I'm going to miss you so much. Every day I'm going to think of you, and every night I'm going to cry because you're not here with me. I won't forget you." He was crying now, his knees curling up to his chest and lending him the appearance of a dying pillbug. "I'll always love you but please don't wait. Find someone else to love and have a family. I don't care, I just want you to be happy, okay? Promise me you'll be happy. That's all I want." His voice broke and it took Herculean effort to keep himself in some semblance of control. "Be happy, please," he said, a kneading edge in his voice.

She didn't reply.

"Linka?"

Not even static.

He held the phone up and stared at the screen for a long time, the words CALL DROPPED blinking in time with his slamming heart.

Letting it fall from his hand, he rolled over, buried his face in his pillow, and wept.

 _Please let her be happy, God,_ he prayed, _please...let her be happy._

But he doubted, and over the long, fruitless years that followed, that doubt only grew.

 **It's not over just yet.**


	12. Fourteen Years Later

Everyday after work, Lincoln Loud played basketball at the YMCA on Braintree Avenue, sometimes with random people he met on the court - the way kids make friends for a day at the beach then never see them again - but mostly alone. He didn't mind either or, because for him, the appeal in the game was closing out everything in the world but that tiny little hoop. It was more challenging when another guy was coming at you, but eh, Lincoln was fine by himself.

Today, August 9, Lincoln left Pissy's Pizza at five, climbed into his 2021 Dodge, and drove through the late afternoon streets of Royal Woods, the windows down and the radio on WKBBL, the oldies station out of Elk Park. Lincoln liked oldies - there was something honest in it, pure, not like today's stuff. Today's stuff was all about having sex, or, if you were into country, drinking beer, eating fried chicken, _then_ having sex. He couldn't say he was particularly enamored with the singer-songwriter stuff from the early seventies...you know, James Taylor and Cat Stevens...but he respected the hell out of it. Those guys took their music _seriously_ , and sometimes even turned it into art. Today's singers were a drab Soviet apartment block by comparison.

At the intersection of Main and Pine, he stopped at a traffic light and waited for it to change, his mind wandering. He needed to stop at the store on the way home and, true to form, he forgot to make out a shopping list. He was twenty-five and had been living on his own since leaving for college at eighteen, you'd think that he would have gotten the hang of adulting by now, but nope.

Speaking of, his power bill was due. He lived in a two bedroom apartment in a nice complex outside of town, and the electric was through the roof. The funny thing was, he didn't even use it all that much. It's like they charged him more just because _hey, buddy, this place is better than most, you gotta pay extra_.

Thankfully, he could afford it: He was the day manager at Pissy's, worked three evenings a week at Clyde's dads' consulting firm, and sold art on the side, so he was never without, though some months he came close. The art thing wasn't steady income, that was why - some months he made five hundred bucks, some months he didn't make anything.

The light changed, and he went through, then hung a left. The Y sat between a vacant lot and an abandoned factory, its facade mostly glass and clustered with well manicured trees that waved in the hot breeze. Lincoln pulled into a slot facing the street, grabbed his gym bag from the back, and went inside, nodding to the receptionist behind the front desk, a woman with long black hair and sparkling blue eyes. She'd been working here since he came home from college two years ago, and he still didn't know her name. She was pretty, though; maybe he should ask her out.

In the locker room, he went to an empty locker, dropped his bag onto the floor, and changed out of his street clothes. Clad in dark blue basketball shorts and a white T, he shoved his stuff into the locker, grabbed his ball from the bag, and went through a door that lead to a hall bordering the court. A group of boys played on one side, chasing each other and clumsily pawing at the ball. Lincoln went in and took the empty half for himself.

Dribbling the ball, he looked up at the hoop and nodded to himself. Your ass is mine, buddy. He took a deep breath, forced everything else away, and took a shot. It hit the backboard and dropped in, the net swishing.

He played for fifteen minutes before his focus broke and thoughts of the desk lady came. He was being facetious when he said he should ask her out, because he knew how it'd end...just like all the other dates and false starts he had over the years. They'd go somewhere, maybe to a nice restaurant, talk, and Lincoln would feel nothing. No spark, no connection, hell, he might even end the night flat out disliking her.

Knowing this didn't mean anything, though - there was a damn good chance he'd try anyway because...deep down...he wanted to love someone, and wanted to be loved by someone in return. He wanted a hand to hold and eyes to gaze into, someone to be there when he woke up in the morning and when he came home at night. Sometimes he wanted it so badly he ached. Most normal aspiration in the world, isn't it? To have and to hold?

For him, it wasn't so much an aspiration as it was a pipe dream. No matter how badly he pined for it, he couldn't have it because…

He missed his tenth consecutive shot, the ball bouncing off the rim and landing out of bounds. Sighing in frustration, he went over, snatched the ball out of midair, and left. This didn't happen every day...or even most days...but it did happen, and by now he knew himself well enough to know that his concentration was ruined; if he stayed out there, he'd keep missing baskets and gathering wool until either the ball hit him in the face or his thoughts turned firmly and openly to Linka.

Something stirred deep in his chest, like the like dying embers of a wind-swept fire, and he quashed it as quickly and as savagely as he could, a communist leader putting down a protest with tanks and soldiers because if he didn't, it would spread. Linka was always in the back of his mind, but this time of year, she had a way of drifting to the front. August 10 was their anniversary: Fourteen years ago she and her brother crossed over and came into his life...fourteen years that felt some days like four months, and others like fourteen _hundred_ years.

An image flashed across his mind before he could stop it: Linka, twenty-five and even more beautiful than she was at eleven, doing the exact same thing as him - stepping on his memory like a venomous bug.

A twinge of pain clinched his heart, and his step faltered. The last time he talked to her, he begged her to find someone else over there and to be happy. Every day for the past decade and a half, he hoped with every fiber of his being that she had, that he no longer ruled her heart the way she did his.

He knew that he did, though. She was like him, and he like her: Both empty, cast adrift, filling their lives with meaningless waste-time activities like basketball and art. Did she make futile attempts at dating the way he did? Had she ever had loveless sex with someone she barely knew hoping desperately to feel even one-eighth of what she felt with him? He thought she did...he thought she was just as sad and lonely as he was...and that brought tears to his eyes.

Damn it. Looks like the revolution has come, comrade. He tried to pull a Li Peng, but wound up doing a Nicolae Ceaușescu instead.

At his locker, he grabbed his things and hurriedly dressed; thick steam from the showers clogged the humid air, and as he pulled on his pants, a fat man in his fifties wearing only a smile walked over to the bench and propped his leg on, looking for all the world like Captain Morgan; his tiny, shriveled package swung free, and, as Lincoln watched in horror, he started talking to another man, this one fully clothed. The second man crossed his arms and stared into the first's eyes intently, perhaps, Lincoln thought, because the alternative was to look at his pecker.

Fully dressed, Lincoln shoved his shorts and shirt into the bag, swung it over his shoulder, and checked his phone.

One missed called.

Oh, God.

The only person who called him - aside from Mom - was the evening manager at Pissy's, a twenty-one-year-old upstart named Matt who only got the job because his uncle's cousin's brother's sister's daughter's neighbor's grandmother's son's friend knew the owner. He was a likeable enough kid, but he had a way of turning everything he touched to shit; last week he started the kitchen on fire; the week before that he misplaced important paperwork that wound up being thrown out; and today...idk, he summoned Nyarlathotep or something.

Coming to a halt, he swiped his thumb across the screen, then blinked in surprise.

It wasn't Matt.

It was Lisa.

Oh, thank God, he thought with a titter. He hit the CALL button and pressed the phone to his ear, then went into the hall. She answered on the third ring with a curt, "Lincoln."

"Hey. Lise," he said and went through the main doors. The sun was lower and the day cooler. "What's up?"

"I was wondering if you'd stop by the house before going home. I have something to talk to you about."

He knew in an instant that that _something_ had to do with Linka...or, rather, Levi. Eight years ago, such a call would have ignited hope in his chest, hope that she finally found a way through. Today, it did not, because he knew it was impossible. She just needed someone to talk to, someone who shared the same pain.

It happened every year. "Sure," he said, not wanting to talk about it at the same time that he did. "Give me ten minutes."

"Alright," she said, "I'll be waiting."

Lincoln ended the call, slipped the phone into his pocket, and slid in behind the wheel. Eight minutes later, he pulled to the curb in front of his childhood home, 1216 Franklin Avenue. It never ceased to amaze him how it looked exactly the same, but, for some indefinable reason, different as well. Nothing had changed, really...save for the lawn. Once upon a time it was strewn with toys, now it was empty, the children grown.

Killing the engine, he got out, slammed the door, and crossed to the porch, the shaggy too-tall grass tickling his bare calves. He'd have to come out and mow this weekend. Probably Sunday. He and Clyde were gonna hang on Saturday - that was the one day a week Lynn would let him out of the house.

At the door, he started to reach for his keys, but thought twice and tried the knob.

Unlocked.

Sigh. Lily, being the happy, good-natured little ball of sunshine she was, apparently had a hard time comprehending the fact that pedophiles, serial killers, and Kramers were attracted to unlocked doors like magnants. Guess he'd have to bitch her out again.

Inside, he found the object of his brotherly concern curled up on the couch with her tablet, a slight blonde with a cowlick much like the one he buzzed off in high school (he was sick of jokemasters giving it high fives in the hallway... _up top, Loud_ ). She was dressed in black sweat pants and an oversized grey T-shirt, an outfit she called her "work clothes." From the time she was little, she wanted to be an artist _just like you,_ which meant she wanted to make shit for fun and feel like junk about everything she did, but I digress. When she was working on a project, she wore comfy clothes because _I can't just walk around in my underwear like_ you. He didn't see why not, she wore bathing suits no problem, but eh, whatever.

He closed the door behind him and she looked up, a bright smile lighting her neutral features. "Hey, Linc."

"Hey," he said, then, assuming his best stern voice, "what have I told you about leaving the door unlocked?"

She regarded him blankly for a moment, then grinned sheepishly. "Whoops. Sorry. I was in kind of a rush."

"Yeah?" he asked and went over, leaning on the back of the couch. "For what?"

Beaming with pride, she presented him with the tablet and he took it. A budding pink flower, as true to life as he had ever seen, filled the screen, half of it colored in soft shades of pink and the other white. "I'm not done yet," she announced, "but I'm, like, half of the way there." She twisted around and preened. "Pretty good, huh?"

Lincoln smiled down at the tablet. Yes, actually, it was very good; she was a much better artist than he was at fifteen. He liked to think that had something to do with it...all those lessons he gave her were finally starting to pay off. "It looks like junk, delete it," he said and gave her the tablet back.

Her jaw dropped in a perfect O of shock. "It does _not_ look like junk. It looks _beautiful._ " She whipped away and went back to work, the corners of her mouth turned up in a satisfied smile. He told her he had to keep her ego in check and that's exactly what he was doing.

"It looks great," he said and ruffled her hair.

"Hey! I'm trying to work!"

"Well sor-ry," Lincoln said and backed off, his hands going up, palms facing out. _Hey, man, don't shoot._ His and Lily's interplay was one of the few things he genuinely enjoyed in life. They'd always been close, but after dad died two years ago, their relationship took on a deep dimension. He could never replace their father, but, perhaps subconsciously, Lily needed hm to try...and maybe he needed _himself_ to try.

As he climbed the stairs, his thoughts turned once more toward Linka. Lily reminded him a great deal of her - happy, upbeat, full of life and energy and playful. In a way, you could say Lily had been filling a vacant role for him this whole time.

He reached the top of the steps and turned left. Lily and Lisa were the only ones who still lived at home, and with all the extra space, Lisa expanded her lab to three rooms in place of one. He found her, as he expected, in her quarters, Lori's old room; she sat in her computer chair facing the door, her elbows propped on the arms and her fingers steepled against the tip of her nose. One foot tapped restlessly against the floor and she anxiously chewed her bottom lip. She glanced up as he entered and shut the door, then drew a deep breath.

The past fourteen years had been just as hard on her as they had been on him, if not harder; to this very day, she was looking for a way through the veil and hating herself because she couldn't find it. Lincoln wished she wouldn't wallow in self-blame, but he supposed it fueled her, and while it wasn't exactly healthy, she needed something to keep her going.

"Hey," he said.

She looked at him and seemed tho think a long time before she spoke. "I'm doing it," she said.

That caught him off guard. Doing it? Doing _what?_ He tilted his head in confusion, and Lisa darted her eyes shamefully away. "I'm going through."

When he realized what she was saying, his heart came to a crashing halt and his stomach rushed up to meet it. Hope, like the kiss of a warm fire, filled him for the first time in almost ten years. "You found a way?" he asked, his tone urgent.

Staring at his feet, unable to meet his eyes, Lisa shook her head. "No," she said, "I didn't."

"But…"

She lifted her gaze to his, and tears brimmed in her dark eyes. "I've been trying for fourteen years, Lincoln. I can't do it and...I can't wait any longer. I can't."

"Lisa," Lincoln sighed, his hopes crashing. "You can't do that. It -"

She cut him off. "There is a chance of creating a black hole. Yes. But that's all it is. A chance."

"A 41.5 percent chance," Lincoln pointed out. Before they even lost contact with Linka's world, Lisa boosted the processing power of the transporter. It could get through the "fabric" but the possibility existed that the ripping effect caused by passing through it would spawn a cosmos eating black hole that could potentially kill everything in the universe.

Them included.

Their loved ones included.

 _Linka and Levi_ included.

"Those odds were not acceptable before," she said, "but they are now."

Lincoln hung his head and went over, dropping onto the edge of the bed. Many times over the years he told himself the same thing. "Lisa...:"

"I can't do it anymore, Lincoln," she said, her voice flooding with emotion. "I can't go on like this. It doesn't get any better, it only gets worse. I miss him so badly it's as though I'm being eaten alive from the inside out. I dream about him every night, Lincoln, and have for ten years. It might not be rational...it might not even be healthy...but I don't give a shit. I _need_ him. I -"

Lincoln. "Feel lost without him." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"Yes," Lisa said, her voice cracking. "I also feel as though I'm missing my heart."

He felt the same way about Linka; always had and probably always would.

"What I said was true. I firmly believe now that the denizens of his world are literally our other half. I'm still not exactly sure how that works, but I know it to be true. I told you the story of Zeus…"

Lincoln nodded. The thing about humans being split in two.

She chewed her bottom lip. "I don't think it happened that way, but I do think that is, in essence, what happened, that we were somehow split - through a natural process, of course." She turned in her chair, her tone becoming more impassioned, like a defense attorney pleading with a jury. "Don't you feel it, Lincoln? Don't you feel the biting sense of _loss?_ Don't you feel as though there's an open wound in your soul that never closes, never heals?"

Reaching out, Lincoln took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Yes," he said, "I feel it every second of every day. I try to pretend that I don't, but I do."

"Wouldn't you give anything to be with her again? To hold her in your arms and kiss her? To feel whole again?"

He started to reply, but stopped. Yes. He would. Even, he realized now, if it meant…

No. "We can't. The risk is too high. We're talking the possibility of killing everyone we love." His first thought was of Lily, so much like Linka, so full of vitality and so...fun. He could never hurt her. Never.

His second was of Linka, trapped across an infinite gulf of space and time, dying a little more each passing day, wilting like a flower in the desert sun.

"41 percent, Lincoln," Lisa said with wild-eyed desperation, "that's not even half."

The sound of Linka's tears the last time he spoke to her echoed through his head like a ghostly wail. His hand tingled with the warm phantom of her touch, and his heart throbbed achingly, wanting so badly to beat against hers as it once had.

Lisa squeezed his hand. "Not even half," she repeated solemnly.

He didn't know he was speaking until he heard the croak of his own voice. "Will we be able to get back?"

"I don't know," Lisa said, "and I don't care."

He hung his head. "I-I can't leave Lily. And Mom."

"I can," Lisa said evenly. "I can't feel this way anymore, Lincoln. I can't. I'll miss everyone, but I can't." She pulled her hand away and got to her feet. "I'm going. Now. You can stay if you like; just keep in mind that Linka's been feeling the same thing as you, and she will never love anyone ever again. She'll live alone, Lincoln, and she'll die alone."

Lincoln winced at the image of Linka old and wizened, no one in the world to hold her hand and tell her she was beautiful despite the wrinkles, no one to pass long winter evenings with, no one to be there for her in the end.

He thought of Lily, and of his mother. They above everyone else needed him.

Everyone else, that is, except for Linka.

He looked over his shoulder as Lisa uncovered the teleporter, the whipping of the sheet kicking up a cloud of dust. It had been sitting there for years, untouched, waiting to take him to Linka...to take him home.

Or to the grave.

In that moment, he was so conflicted he didn't know what to think or do; he simply watched as his sister hooked the machine to her computer, crossed back around the foot of the bed, and sat in her chair, her hands going to the keyboard. "Do you know how happy she'll be to see you?"

As happy as he would be to see her.

Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Very happy. And excited as well. I envision her bouncing up and down, throwing her arms around her, and crying tears of joy." She pressed a button. She got up and looked down at him. "Are you coming?"

Lincoln rubbed his forehead. He didn't want to leave his family...but he wanted Linka, wanted her to be happy, and him too.

"I have ulterior motives," Lisa said, "for one, our shared commiseration has bonded us, and I've grown quite fond of you. For another...I'm afraid of to this alone." She darted her eyes away as though admitting that embarrassed her.

He suspected. He looked up into her downturned face and allowed himself to linger on the image she invoked, the one of Linka bouncing up and down and crying tears of joy. He felt himself upsetting and beginning to tip, and instead of fighting it, he gave in. Swallowing hard, he nodded. "Yeah. I'm coming."

A wide smile spread across Lisa's face, and she brushed her fingertips affectionately across his cheek. "Let's go."

He got heavily to his feet and followed her to the teleporter, but stopped. "Can I have five minutes?"

Lisa frowned. "Why?"

"To say goodbye."

"Alright. But hurry."

He nodded, then went downstairs, his heart and stomach both aching: One with anticipation and the other with dread. Lily was where he left her, drawing on her tablet, a grin of determination on her face. It struck him then just how much he was going to miss her.

At the back of the couch, he leaned forward and stared at the screen over her shoulder. "Almost done," she chirped.

He loved her dearly...but she wasn't his other half. He would miss her like a man missed his sister. Wth Linka, he missed her as a convict missed the sun, stars, moon, and air.

"It looks great," he said, and sad tenderness welled in his chest. "You're a great artist, you know that?"

She smiled. "I know."

"And a really great girl."

He kissed the top of her head and she cringed. "I'm working," she drew through a grin.

"I know," he said, tears brimming in his eyes. "Do me a favor, will you?"

"What?" she asked curiously.

He flicked her cowlick. "Never stop being you...and please be happy."

She looked up at him like he was bonkers. "Uh...okay. I'll get right on that."

"Good," he said.

For a moment he lingered, seriously having second thoughts, but then he pushed away from the sofa and trudged back up the stairs, his hand trailing on the bannister. He felt like the most selfish piece of shit to ever live...but even so, he was excited.

He might very well get to be with Linka again.

In her room, Lisa stood in front of the machine with her arms crossed. When he entered, she turned hurriedly around and input the combination; the door whoosed open and Lincoln's stomach clutched. This was really happening. He was going to Linka...or kill all life in the multiverse trying.

Lisa stepped in, and after a brief hesitation, Lincoln followed, turning to face the door as it slid shut. Standing side by side, neither he or Lisa moved. "This is it," she said, her voice breaking with uncertainty.

"Yeah," he said, his heart beginning to race, "this is it."

Her hand crept into his, and he clutched it tightly, hanging on as if for dear life. She punched in a few numbers on the keyboard flanking the door, and the teleporter began to shake.

Lincoln threaded his fingers through his sister's, and she squeezed, communicating her fear...and her excitement.

The crackle of electricity filled the air and the astringent smell of ozone burned Lincoln's nostrils. He closed his eyes and called up a vision of Linka's face; in his mind, it glowed as if suffused with the light of heaven, and her eyes shone like beacons in the dark. The memory was so vivid that he could feel her body pressed to his body, her shape molding perfectly to his, could taste her lips, could hear her sweet, melodic voice.

Shaking faster, the teleporter began to whirr, and Lincoln's heart pounded. He tightened his grip on Lisa's hand.

And together, they crossed to the other side of forever.

* * *

 ***Now* it's over.**


End file.
